Lady of the Dark
by Straight-Outta-Hobbiton
Summary: Hermione's had an epiphany; the boys are stupid. This epiphany leads to a lot of things, including an apparently natural makeover and the discovery that maybe the Dark's not as bad as everyone says. True evil lies in the heart of the deceiver, and as far as she can tell, Lord Voldemort is an honest sort of man. Manipulative!Hermione, Dark!Hermione, Halfblood!Hermione
1. Ch 1: Borealis and Lemuel's Books

She always hated it, their fool-hardy, stupid... Gryffindor-ness. Honestly, she thought they'd learn with age, but that hope seems to be no more than an errant fantasy in a silly girl's head. It seems they're meant to be stupid, just like every other fucking Gryffindor in the school.

Well, the Weasley twins are clever, but she isn't really supposed to admit that. She's a prefect, after all.

Sighing to herself, she looks back at her bedroom mirror.

Since this little realization at the beginning of the summer that her friends are completely useless (and possibly lethal for her), most of her notable features have started changing. Her hair has become a very light shade of blonde and much more manageable, and her eyes have lightened from brown to a pale green, lighter than a ghost's. Her cheekbones have become more pronounced, her chin a bit sharper, and her overall physique has become more willow-like, slender.

Her parents are under the impression she's spelling herself, but they don't say anything because anything done by magic can be undone just as easily, surely.

Still, their belief gives her free reign to come and go from Diagon Alley as she pleases, to research whatever it is that's happening to her.

Three weeks of combing through Flourish and Blott's hasn't brought up anything, but who knows.

Today she might get lucky.

-SOH-

The girl had been coming every day for the past few weeks, but hasn't managed to find what she's been looking for. Borealis Blott has left her be- if she really wants his help, she'll ask him- but when she comes in at the beginning of what he thinks is her fourth week, he gives in to curiosity and approaches her.

"Can I help you with anything, dear?"

She looks up at him with piercing eyes better fit for a corpse and offers a partly relieved and partly hopeless smile.

"I'm looking for an explanation to the symptoms I've been having over the last month," she tells him. "And none of the books on magical diseases have been able to help me."

"Perhaps I can be of service, then," he tells her with a smile. "Would you like to list the symptoms? Or are they of a more, personal, nature?"

She flushes and shakes her head.

"No, nothing like that. I've just- over the summer, my hair's gone lighter, and my eyes- they used to be brown. The shape of my face has changed, as well as my body- I've shrunk three inches in the last three weeks. I already checked myself for any sort of spells or potions, and come up with nothing. So I was thinking it could be, I don't know, some sort of condition?"

Borealis gives her a sympathetic look.

"Have you had any groundbreaking epiphanies lately?" He asks. "Any sudden changes in thought or routine? Have you gained or lost any acquaintances?"

"I..." She pauses. "I've been... I've been thinking about how... How my friends are never going to learn. How they're no good for me."

His sympathy only grows.

"People with old blood will do that sometimes," he tells her. "A truth will turn out false, or something important will change, and because of the strength of their magical cores, it will be reflected physically. I have a book all about it at my other shop."

"But I don't have old blood," Hermione says, eyes wide. "I'm a Muggleborn!"

Borealis pauses. "Really? You look like one of the Black women, in my opinion."

She gapes at the man. "I- really?"

"Well, they are known for their ghost eyes, and a good half of them are blonde..." He trails off, gaze speculative. "But I might be wrong. Still, I think you ought to do some reading. Who knows, you might find something useful."

Hermione nods, resigned to a few more weeks of fruitless search. "Could I have the address of the other shop and the name of the book?"

"The book's called 'The Pains of a Pureblood', by Claudia Blishwick, and the shop is right down Knockturn Alley on the right- now, don't give me that look. There are plenty of decent folk down there, despite it's reputation. No one'll hurt you unless you give them cause."

"I- alright. Well, thank you, Mr. Blott," she says with a dip of her head. "Thank you for helping me."

Borealis smiles. "Anytime. Come back soon, miss."

She smiles and slips out the door of the shop, leaving the shopkeeper to return to his place at the register.

He hopes she finds what she's looking for.

-SOH-

Knockturn isn't so bad, really. Sure, it's dark, and maybe a little dirty, but it's no worse than some of the neighborhoods she's wandered in Muggle London. Still, she moves quickly through the streets, head high and steps swift until she reaches the the recommended bookshop.

'Borealis and Lemuel's Books: Everything You Need To Know and More'

It was the nicest building on the whole street, and the best lit, so with no qualms Hermione slips inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Hello, dear. How can I help you?"

She looks to the register to see a kindly-looking man with a shock of blue hair and a tall, gaunt figure.

"Hello," she greets. "I was sent here by Mr. Blott? He told me the book I needed would be here."

"And what was the title of the book, Miss...?"

"Granger, sir. The book was called 'The Pains of a Pureblood', by Claudia Blishwick."

"Ah, I did like that one. Very informative." Lemuel smiles. "Well, follow me then, Miss Granger, and we'll get you all fixed up."

He leads her between tall, rickety shelves, stuffed with books that catch her attention with titles like 'Wandless Magic and How To Use It: Putting Theory Into Practice' and 'Natural Magic: Uses For the World Around You'. Everything seems interesting and practical and Hermione can't recall for the life of her ever seeing anything half so interesting on the Hogwarts library shelves.

"Here we are, dear." Lemuel's voice jerks her out of her reverie, and she smiles at the book offered to her.

"Thank you, sir."

"You can have a look around, if you like. There are plenty of useful books that might interest you lying around here."

Hermione chuckles. "I've never seen any books like these," she tells him. "And a lot of them just seem so interesting."

"Of course they are. Most of them would be categorized as 'Dark'," Lemuel says easily. "As though there really is such a thing."

Hermione blinks. "You... You don't believe in Dark and Light?"

"Not particularly- they're just names for techniques, after all. The main difference between the two sides is emotion." Lemuel looks her over with dark blue eyes. "What most people call Light Magic is really just magic you can control without any sort of emotion- just an exercise of your will does the trick. Dark Magic needs emotion to work at all. Anyone can tell you that."

"I don't think I understand."

"Take... Let's say Crucio, for instance." He waves a hand absently over his head. "In order to cast it, you need to have enough emotion to want to see your target in pain. If you just cast it, it won't have the same effect, the same as all the other 'Dark' spells." He sighs. "The problem is, a lot of people haven't got a good handle on their emotions, and they end up going mad because they can't balance out the good and the bad."

Hermione chews her lip thoughtfully. "I suppose I can understand that, but, what about things like the Unforgivables? You don't consider the Killing Curse a Dark spell?"

"It's the kindest way to kill someone in a fight, in my opinion," Lemuel tells her bluntly. "For instance, Incendio is a Light spell, and yet if it is used against a human, it burns its target alive. No, I'd prefer to be hit by the Killing Curse, if I had to be hit at all."

Hermione nods and hums, turning over her thoughts with the curiosity of a cat.

"You're taking this well," Lemuel remarks. "At least, for someone who strikes me a Light witch."

She smiles ruefully. "A few months ago I probably wouldn't be so calm," she admits. "But a lot has changed, recently, and I've been thinking I ought to broaden my horizons a bit."

"I understand completely." Lemuel gestures at the shelves. "Have a look around. Tell me if you see anything you like."

Hermione nods. "Thank you. I think I will."

She ends up spending four hours and three quarters of her money in the little store before bidding Lemuel a good weekend and heading home.

After all, she had some reading to do.

-SOH-

_The Change is a rare but not unheard of stage of magical maturation, seen only in pure- and halfblood children. It is believed to be triggered by the beginning of the alignment of morality and magic within the child, and usually prematurely begins the physical changes necessary for the subject to better control its magical core and begin the process of finding a fitting partner. The Change is only observed in wizards and witches of exceptional power._

_-Claudia Blishwick, The Pains of a Pureblood, Chapter Fourteen, page 196_

-SOH-

Hermione sighs and sits back in her chair, rubbing at her face with long, spidery fingers she doesn't remember having before.

This might... This might actually have some merit. Which means she's... She's not a Muggleborn.

She feels oddly... relieved, by that. Which is strange, because she's always been proud of being a Muggleborn.

But maybe that was because she didn't have a choice to be something better.

Hermione shakes her head, trying to clear it.

She needs to do something else. Maybe start one of the other books she'd gotten...

Yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea. Easy reading is exactly what she needs.

-SOH-

"Good morning, Miss Granger. I wasn't expecting to see you here again so soon."

"Good morning, Lemuel." Hermione smiles warmly. "I was in Diagon to pick up a few potions ingredients and thought I'd stop by again- I've already read everything I bought on Friday."

Lemuel's eyes widen considerably. "Really?"

She nods. "Mhm. Do you by any chance have any books on Pureblood history? I'm doing a bit of research."

"Granger isn't a pureblood name," Lemuel remarks as he rises to help her.

She nods, looking a hesitant.

"I- well, what I seem to be experiencing only ever happens to people with pure blood," she tells him. "I bought most the ingredients for a Blood Reveal potion, but I'm missing a few key ingredients, and then I need to rent out a space somewhere where I can brew the potion. Since I can't do it in a Muggle couple's home..."

"If you can find those ingredients, you can always brew the potion in my back room," Lemuel offers. "I can sell off the extra, and you can pay for the space that way."

"Really? That would be amazing, thank you." She smiles, then sighs.

"I still have to find dried dragon tears and acromatula saliva, though," she admits frustratedly. "There Class A Tradeable Items."

"You seem like a clever girl," Lemuel tells her, running a finger along the spines of a dozen books before tugging out a heavy green volume and handing it to her. "I'm certain you can find the right connections."

"I hope so." She takes the book and looks up hopefully.

"Have you got anything special?" She asks. "Something you think would interest me?"

Lemuel chuckles. "I might have a few things. Come on. I'll show you."

Hermione follows him happily into the aisles.


	2. Ch 2: Blood Potion

The newly opened Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is the brightest store on Diagon Alley, and that's saying something.

"Hello, Hermione-"

"Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes-"

"Greatest joke shop in all of Britain-"

"We weren't expecting to-"

"See you here, but-"

"Welcome anyway!"

She smirks at the pair, flipping back a lock of blonde hair.

"I happened to be shopping around when I saw this place had opened," she tells them easily. "I thought I'd stop in and say hello."

"Well, that's nice of you-"

"Seeing as you've been hanging around Diagon for a couple of weeks now-"

"And haven't once stopped in before-"

"Not even to show off your new look-"

"What's up with that, by the way?"

"Been buying illegal beauty potions in Knockturn?"

"Of course not," she says imperiously. "I didn't see you at all, or I would have said hello."

"Well, that's awful nice of you," says one of them (Fred, she thinks).

"Yeah," the other one agrees. "Almost makes us wonder if you did actually like us in school, and all that scolding was just for your reputation."

"So why have you been hanging around Knockturn?"

Hermione gives them both a severe look.

"There's a bookshop down there I enjoy going to," she tells them simply. "I don't see why it's any of your business whether I'm in Knockturn or not."

"Oh we're not going to yell at you-"

"We spend plenty of time there ourselves-"

"We were just curious to know-"

"If you were looking for anything specific-"

"That we could help you with."

Hermione stills, pale eyes calculating as she looks over the twins.

"I'm currently in the market for dried dragon tears and acromantula saliva," she admits after a moment. "Know where I could find either of those things?"

"Of course," George say easily. "We'll even get it for you, on one condition."

"Which is?"

"Whatever you're brewing, we want to see," Fred tells her.

"It could be interesting, if it needs that sort of power-"

"And it would be a learning experience for the pair of us."

"Deal." She looks around the crowded shop. "Shall we continue this conversation later?"

"We close at eight, if you're still around."

She smiles. "I'll see you at eight-fifteen, then."

The twins nod in unison, grinning madly.

"Looking forward to it," they chorus.

-SOH-

"This is all pretty heavy," Fred remarks, looking oddly somber.

"But not unexpected," George adds.

Hermione looks up sharply. "What do you mean by that?"

George shrugs. "Well, Ron's always been a prat, and Harry's, well- he's a nice bloke, but he's a bit of prick, to be honest."

"Too arrogant," Fred agrees. "Careless."

"His hero thing gets annoying, since half the time hit seems like he's doing it to make people like him," George says. "If it hadn't been for people thinking he was the Heir of Slytherin, I doubt he ever would have gone into the chamber after Ginny."

"He's gotta keep people happy," Fred adds. "Otherwise he's got nothing."

Hermione gives the pair long, hard looks, and they shrug.

"We knew you were smart enough to realize you're too good for them," George says.

"You're the best one out of the three," Fred adds. "Even if you did make it your business to get us in trouble."

"We liked the challenge," they both assure her.

She smiles wryly. "Of course you two did." She sighs. "I just don't know how I'm going to explain to them that I want to sever ties."

"Well, maybe you could ask to be Re-Sorted after you figure out if you've got a lineage," George says thoughtfully. "They do that, sometimes, if the circumstances are serious enough, and if you're from an important bloodline..."

"They might allow the switch," Fred finishes.

"So, any other changes, besides the physical and the figuring out that Ron and Harry are irritating little shits?" George asks cheerfully, a wicked glint in his eye.

Hermione lifts her chin.

"Nothing you'll be allowed to appreciate," she says imperiously, and Fred giggles.

"Oh, she's getting the personality of a pureblood-"

"Maybe there's some truth to this Change thing."

With a groan, she falls back into the plush couch.

-SOH-

"Good morning, Lemuel."

The shopkeeper looks up and smiles.

"Told ya you'd figure it out," he tells Hermione, and her lips quirk.

"Is your back room available? We'd like to set up the potion as soon as possible."

"All ready, just for you, Miss Granger," he says warmly, offering her a shining silver key. "Call me when you're done and I'll collect the extras."

"Thanks, Lemuel." Jerking her chin towards the back, she leads the twins through the dark aisles and unlocks the door to the back room.

"This place is pretty wicked," Fred says once the door's shut tightly behind him.

"Yeah, some of those titles almost made me want to read," George agrees.

"Let's get started, then," Hermione says, ignoring them. "Fred, start the fire. George, help me grind the doxy eggs..."

-SOH-

"So, how is this done again?" Fred sounds tired, and he has a smudge of soot across his cheek.

Hermione checks the book.

"A spoonful of the potion is to be mixed with a drop of blood. It should be stirred until the potion turns colorless," she says, eyes scanning the page. "Then all you have to do is put three drops on a piece of parchment."

"Mind if we try?" George asks curiously. "It seems cool."

"I have more than enough, so why not?" Ladling the potion into three bowls, she pulls a small knife from her pocket and pricks her finger before passing it on.

A few minutes go by in absolute silence as they each focus on their own potions.

"Mine's done," Hermione announces.

"Ours too," George says. "Together?"

"On the count of three," she replies.

"One-" starts Fred.

"Two-"

"Three," Hermione whispers, and the potion hits the paper.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, slowly, veins of black ink sprout from the places where the potion touched the parchment and bloom into thick, easily readable letters.

They all stare at Hermione's, excitement mounting.

**HERMIONE GRANGER, CHILD OF AURELIUS PREWETT AND JOSEPHINE GRANGER NEE ROGERS, HEIRESS OF THE ANCIENT AND MOST NOBLE HOUSE OF PREWETT.**

A coat of arms forms under the words, but she hardly pays it any attention.

"You're related to our mum," George says quietly.

"You're related to nearly everybody," Fred corrects. "Your Granny Lucretia was a Black. They're connected to everyone."

"I... I was right," she breathes, sitting back. "I was right. I'm a half-blood. I... Oh. Oh my."

"Well, at least you can get Re-Sorted, now-"

Hermione cuts George off sharply, eyes glued to their parchment.

"Look."

They go pale at their results.

"That- that can't be," Fred says desperately, eyes wide as he stares down at his parchment.

"How- why-?" George can't even form words.

"Someone must have cast a glamour," she says in a dull tone, still stunned. "Make you look like Weasleys."

"Why?" Fred sounds so pleading, so frightened.

"To hide you from your mother, most likely." The three twitch at Lemuel's somber voice, and all three of them turn to look at him.

"I have a mastery in glamour and illusions," he tells them softly. "I saw through the glamours on you two immediately. Those papers-" he gestures to the parchments. "Just proved my suspicions correct."

"Our mother..." George looks down at his parchment. "Our mother is a mad woman. An escaped prisoner."

"A Death Eater." Fred is quiet, uncertain. "She tortured the Longbottoms. She's a Death Eater, and because of that, the Light took us away from her."

"Dark magic revolves around emotion," Hermione whispers. "They knew she wouldn't be able to handle the loss of her children."

"Those... Those bastards!" George snarls. "How dare they?"

"Dumbledore will do whatever necessary for the greater good," Lemuel tells him gently. "And Bellatrix is one of the most infamous of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters- she is his most loyal servant."

He glances at Hermione.

"You recall, Miss Granger, what I said about Dark spells and their connections to emotions," Lemuel says. "Would it not drive a mother insane to have her children taken from her?"

"I think... I think we're done here," Hermione says softly. "Lemuel, save us a jar- the rest of the potion's yours. We need... We need a bit of time, I think."

"If you want, I can send Borealis over to take the glamours off," he offers as they all stand. "He's a retired curse breaker who has experience with that sort of thing- I'm only knowledgeable in theory."

"I think that'd be very good," Fred says dully. "Thank you." His eyes fall on Hermione. "We're going home, if you'd like to come with us."

"I think a very stiff drink or three would be good for each of us, I think," George adds, and Hermione lets out a dry chuckle.

"I think that would do us very well," she admits. "Thank you for letting us use this space, Lemuel. If you could send Mr. Blott to the flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, that'd be lovely."

"He'll come by in the morning, perhaps with some hangover potion," Lemuel promises. "Congratulations, Miss Prewett."

Oh, right. She'd nearly forgotten.

"Thanks, Lemuel. Good night."

And with that, the three Gryffindors slipped out of the bookshop in silence, their life-changing parchments folded neatly in their pockets, burning them where they touched flesh.

This is not what they expected.


	3. Ch 3: Glamours and Ladyship

Author's Note:

Wow, I didn't expect the reviews I got, but they make me very, very happy!

This will probably update sporadically, but I have about eight chapters save up so far for all you lovely readers that will be posted at least once a week until I get some more writing done. Any questions you may have, feel free to ask, and I will answer to the best of my ability.

Please enjoy this next chapter,

-SOH

* * *

"You know, we've been wondering for years why we were always treated differently," Fred says after his fourth tumbler of gin. His eyes are glassy and dull.

"Bill and Charlie were old enough to remember," George adds. "But Percy was only a year or two old, and no one else was born..."

"Bill and Charlie always did their best to treat us well," his twin continues. "But the others- maybe they didn't know why we were different, but they knew..."

"What are we even supposed to call ourselves now?" It's almost a whine,the way George says it. "We're not Weasleys-"

"Never been, really."

"But if we use our real names-"

"You'll get tossed in Azkaban, most likely," Hermione finishes, and the pair look at her.

She rolls her eyes. "Obviously this was set up by someone with particularly strong influence. Can you think of anyone who has that type of power?"

George's eyes narrow. "Fucking Dumbledore!" He snarls, standing none too steadily. "He took away what we had, for what? A half-baked father and a blind mother? A home where they couldn't have afforded to keep one child, let alone seven? I-" he turns his face away, fury making it difficult to form words.

"George, come here." Despite the kindness in her eyes, it's an order, one he obeys.

Pulling him close, she allows him to rest his head on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around his thin frame. He's shaking slightly, but it only strengthens her resolve.

"Since the beginning of my- my Change, I've been researching," she starts. "I've been looking up what it means to be Dark, learning spells and- and beliefs..."

"We've been doing some reading, too," Fred admits, moving to Hermione's other side to rest his head like his brother. "It doesn't seem so bad, really."

"I think- I think we should see your mother and father," she admits. "Maybe not join the Death Eaters quite yet, but... I for one, am finding myself to be rather sympathetic to their beliefs involving Muggleborns."

"The- the bit about taking them early to learn Wizarding culture?" Fred smiles slightly into her shoulder. "You would."

Hermione smiles a bit, too. "I think we should just do the practical thing and send a letter explaining the situation," she says simply. "We'll tell them what's happened, and think on what to do next."

"Uncle Ignatius is still alive," George says softly. "Your Grandad."

"We can take you to his manor in the morning, after Mr. Blott comes," Fred adds. "He's still technically the Head of the Prewett family, but he's getting older. Most people pass on the title once they retire."

"And then we'll write a letter to Mr. Malfoy- he's certain to get it- with blood signatures from the pair of you," Hermione says. "We'll have to figure out an address they can contact us at."

"We have a flat in Knockturn we could maybe use-"

"Or that cottage we got in Derbyshire, if it's a bit safer for everyone-"

"We'll figure it out when we send the letter," Hermione interrupts. "But now, I think, we should all get some sleep. Would you mind me spending the night here?"

"We have a spare bedroom, if you like," George says.

"But we're quite comfortable here," Fred admits.

Hermione laughs lightly. "Well, I suppose we can stay a while longer," she says, conjuring up a blanket large enough for the three of them.

"Always knew you were the good sort," Fred murmurs, already dozing off.

"Lovely woman, really," George agrees.

In moments, they're all asleep.

-SOH-

Hermione wakes up quite suddenly to the sound of a gong.

"That'll be Mr. Blott," she groans as the twins stir, blinking sleep from their eyes.

The throbbing in her head tells her she's got a horrible hangover, but she doesn't want the gong to sound again, so she gets up as quickly as possible and yanks open the door.

Luna Lovegood peers up at her with a slight smile.

"You do look very nice, Hermione," she tells Hermione dreamily as she waltzes in. "I have hangover potions for the three of you. Borealis has a sudden case of dragon pox, and sent me over to handle the breaking of the Lestranges' glamours."

"Wha- why would Mr. Blott send you?" Hermione asks.

"He's been tutoring me over the last few years," Luna explains, handing over a murky blue mixture. "I'm hoping to get my mastery by the end of the summer." Slipping on a pair of thick pink goggles, she turns her attention to the twins.

"Well, it's very strong," she says, handing them their hangover potions. "Almost definitely Dumbledore's work."

"You- what?" Hermione stares, dumbstruck, at the little blonde.

"It's not well known that the Lovegoods are considered a Dark family," Luna tells her, drawing her wand. "Most people think we're a bit off because of the fact that most of us are Seers of some kind or another."

"That has to be a bit true, though," Fred says after swallowing his potion.

"Oh, it is," she admits happily. "But it doesn't make us any less dangerous than a Lestrange." Muttering under her breath, she moves her wand over the pair, letting silvery blue mist rain down on their heads.

It flickers like a bad television signal. The red hair disappears a moment to reveal black, then it goes red again. Their faces become more angular, their noses a bit sharper. Brown eyes go icy blue, then murky, then-

Then it all stops.

"Well, it seems you two got the best of the Black and Lestrange genes," Luna remarks, stepping back to look at her handiwork. "You two are rather handsome."

The twins- still identical- look at each other and gape.

"Damn-"

"And we thought-"

"We looked good before!"

"Should we call you by your proper names, then?" Hermione asks, smiling slightly.

Both pause.

"I suppose we should," the one that was Fred said.

"It's only proper," the one that was George agrees.

"Ladies, you may call me Orion Neptune Lestrange," says once-Fred.

"And I am Arcturus Mercury Lestrange," adds once-George.

"A pleasure to meet the pair of you," Hermione says with a proper, Pureblooded curtsy- or it would have been if she was wearing a dress.

"Reading does wonders," Luna says admiringly, looking at Hermione.

"It really does," Hermione agrees.

"I assume you'll be contacting the Lestranges, then?"

"We'll be sending a letter to Mr. Malfoy."

Luna nods serenely. "Then they'll have it by nightfall, if you send it after your visit to Mr. Prewett."

"How did you- Seer. Right." Hermione smiles. "Thank you for your help, Luna. Give Mr. Blott our best wishes."

"Of course. I'll see you soon, Hermione. Orion. Arcturus."

She slips out the door and leaves the three to themselves.

"She's quite the interesting little thing," Orion remarks.

"I've always liked her," Arcturus agrees. "Shall we go to Uncle Ignatius', then?"

"I think it would be best." The twins take Hermione by either arm. "And we're off!"

They disappear with a crack.

-SOH-

The manor is a beautiful thing, all carved stone and colorful trim. It's huge, really, and a bit gloomy, but an easy enough place to cheer up.

It also happens to be the only house in the whole valley, which is something she can appreciate.

The door opens the moment they reach it, and they are greeted by a house elf dressed in a flowered slip fashioned out of what looked to be an old set of curtains.

She curtsies deeply.

"I is called Sparkle, Mistress," she tells Hermione. "I is here to take you and Strange Masters to the Lord. He is waiting long time, Mistress," she adds, giving Hermione a disapproving look.

"I am very sorry to have kept him waiting," Hermione tells her. "I didn't know he was expecting me."

Sparkle relents. "I'm sure Lord doesn't mind. But please, Mistress and Masters, follow Sparkle."

She leads them through the dark manor onto the back porch, where a white-haired man sits alone by a small tea table, a book in his hands a cane across his knees.

"Sparkle brings the young Mistress and her friends, Lord."

"About damn time," he grunts, shutting his book with a snap and turning.

"Well, you seem strong, at least," he says, pale green eyes sharp on Hermione. "And boys! Finally figured out that horrid creature wasn't you mother?"

"Did everyone know?" Orion asks, a touch exasperated.

"Oh, most of the Old Lot Knows. We've just been sworn to secrecy- but now you know, so the contract is moot." Ignatius taps the table. "Have a seat. We'll talk."

The three obey and Sparkle serves everyone tea before disapparating with a loud crack.

"I'm happy that you came before I really started getting on in years," Ignatius admits as he sips his tea. "The Pureblood curse, you know. If we're the last of a line, we don't have the luxury of dying of old age."

"I read about that," Hermione tells him. "And I'm very happy I saved you the annoyance of having to kill yourself."

"Thoughtful girl," Ignatius says with a smile. "I knew you'd be perfect. Well, a few things before I hand over the title of Head of the Prewett House and subsequently die. One, as a granddaughter of a Black, I can almost guarantee that you will have at least one Animagus form- they have a knack for human transfiguration, the Blacks. Two, the Prewetts are known for their sense of fashion. I expect you to buy yourself some better clothes, or at least put on something from the family collection in your room. You're a Prewett, for Merlin's sake, not a Muggle. You're assets are liquid, so please, do something about... that." He flaps a hand at her frumpy sweater and jeans.

Hermione goes pink at that. "Yes, sir."

Ignatius smiles.

"You're a good girl. I can tell already." Grasping the heavy ruby ring on his index finger, he slips it off and reaches across the table to hand it to Hermione.

She takes it from him and slips it on, feeling the white gold shrink to fit her finger properly.

"Lovely," Ignatius murmurs. "Well then, take care of Sparkle, don't take drinks from strange men, and don't sign any marriage contracts with the Crabbes or the Goyles- part-troll half-breeds, the lot of them-" he cut of mid-sentence, mouth going slack and eyes rolling up in his head. His teacup fell from his hand.

There's a beat of silence.

"Well, looks like he's kicked it," Arcturus remarks. "Hermione?"

She stands.

"Sparkle," she calls.

There's a crack and Sparkle is standing before her.

"Yes, Lady?"

"If you could take care of the corpse," Hermione says. "A funeral should be dealt with as soon as possible. Orion, Arcturus, send a letter to Mr. Malfoy. Give him this address of Prewett Manor. I'm off to Gringotts to handle the paperwork and get my vault key."

"Get changed into something presentable before you go," Orion calls after her. "You're a Lady, now-"

"So you'll have to dress like one!" finishes Arcturus.

"I know!" She calls back. "Now write that letter, please!"

Chuckling, the twins settle down in their chairs and conjure up parchment and a pair of quills.

This was going to turn out a very interesting week.


	4. Ch 4: Introducing Lady Prewett

The woman that enters Gringotts catches Draco's eye almost immediately. She's gorgeous, to be certain, and familiar, but he can't place where he'd seen her before. Perhaps at a gala, or maybe in school?

"Mother, who is that?"

Narcissa looks up from the papers she'd come in to sign to see who her son was talking about.

She pauses, taking in the beautiful girl.

"I have no idea," she admits.

"She looks familiar," Draco insists. "But I can't remember where I've seen her before."

Narcissa hums in agreement, eyes still locked on the girl. She was stunning, pale as a ghost with near-white hair and pale green eyes. Her lips are painted blood red, and she's dressed in a striking black lace dress that just barely reveals the toes of her her red slippers.

She offers the Malfoys a small smile as she passes them on the way to the teller beside them.

"Good morning, I'm here to handle my claim to Ladyship," she says in a clear, confident voice.

Draco's mouth drops open.

"Name?" The goblin asks.

Her smile becomes the smallest of smirks. "Hermione Jean Granger, but I'd like it changed to Prewett, please."

"Yes, madame. If we could just have a drop of blood to verify..."

"Of course." Leaning forward, Hermione pricks her finger on a proffered needle and lets it drip onto a piece of parchment.

There's a moment of silence as the blood congeals and gives him the information necessary to move on.

"Well, Lady Prewett, will you be needing a key to your vault?" The goblin inquires, and she smiles prettily.

"Yes. I would also like a list of my assets, if that isn't too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, my Lady. If you'll please give me a moment."

The goblin leaves her to wait at the desk.

"Granger, is that you?"

She looks over at Draco and offers him polite smile.

"Yes it is me- hopefully by the time I leave Gringotts I'll have left that name behind," she tells him. "You look awfully surprised, Draco."

"I-" he stops, looking back at his mother, uncertain.

Hermione steps up and sketches a perfect Pureblood curtsy.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm Hermione Prewett, a Gryffindor and the newest head of the Prewett family."

Narcissa smiles slightly, just enough to be considered friendly. "It is very nice to meet you, Miss Prewett. Are you Augustus' daughter?"

"Yes. I was raised by my Muggle mother and her husband, and was previously unaware of the relation." She wrinkles her nose. "I'm hoping that my new status allows me to be re-sorted into my proper house, but first I need to handle all this paperwork."

Narcissa laughs lightly. "Paperwork is the curse of the family Head. My Lucius always is complaining of it."

Hermione smiles. "I can imagine. And I don't think I'll have helped, today."

The Malfoy matriarch pauses. "What do you mean, dear?"

"Well, not me directly," Hermione amends. "But, ah, a few friends of mine sent him a letter before I left about a few... Familial matters. I'm certain he'll have received the letter by now-"

"Lady Prewett, you papers," the goblin interrupts.

She smiles apologetically at Narcissa and Draco. "That's my cue. It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Malfoy. See you at school, Draco." And with that, she gathers her papers and sweeps out of Gringotts.

"Come along, Draco, we must get home." Mouth pressed into a thin line, Narcissa leads her son out into the street.

She had a feeling this wouldn't end well.

-SOH-

_To Mr. Lucius Malfoy,_

_It has recently come to our attention that we share common relations by marriage. We would like to meet these common relations, but think it will be difficult to come in contact with them, considering their status within the law. It is imperative that we meet them, and believe you would be able to make this happen._

_We are currently in residence at the Prewett Manor. Please send word as soon as possible as to whether this is manageable._

_With greatest regards,_

_Orion and Arcturus Lestrange_

Lucius stares at the signatures in disbelief. Bellatrix's sons were killed years ago by the Light- but if that were truly the case, how could he be staring at their blood signatures?

"Lucius- Lucius, is everything all right?"

He looks up into the worried face of his wife and wordlessly hands over the letter.

Her face goes pale as she reads.

"Is- is it possible, Lucius?" She whispers.

"I don't know," he admits. "But, before we tell your sister and Rodolphus, I think it would be best to meet these boys first."

She nods. "I'll go with you. I want- I want to see, as well."

Lucius nods, and with a crack, they both apparate to the Prewett Manor.

-SOH-

"Hermione!"

Hermione blinks in surprise at the twins rushing towards her, looking rather panicked.

"Hermione, we were exploring the Manor-"

"And we found this Arch-"

"And Orion touched it-"

"You pushed me into it!"

"And it started glowing-"

"And Sirius fell out!"

Hermione freezes. "Wait, what?" She shakes her head. "Never mind. Where is he now?"

"We had Sparkle put him in a guest bedroom-"

"He's battered, but alive-"

"He's alive, Hermione!"

A crack signals Sparkle's arrival.

"Lady, there is visitors in the atrium. Master and Mistress Malfoy are wishing to speak with you and the Masters Strange," she tells Hermione. "Master Black is also awake. Sparkle gave him pain relievers and some lunch."

"Thank you, Sparkle. Tell Sirius I'll be with him in a moment. Boys, come with me to greet the Malfoys."

She leads the twins down the stairs into the atrium, a polite smile on her lips.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I wasn't expecting a visit until this evening, at least," she says with a smile.

"The letter we received merited an immediate visit," Lucius says stiffly. "I'm certain you understand."

"Of course," Hermione says agreeably. "And I don't mind in the least, though I regret to say I am a bit preoccupied at the moment with some other business. Boys, if you'll entertain the Malfoys? I need to attend to Sirius."

"Yes, Ma'am," the boys chorus, stepping past her and bowing deeply.

"We know this must have come as a quite a shock-" starts Orion.

"Believe us, it was for us too-"

"So how about we have a spot of tea in the garden-"

"And talk this over?" Arcturus finishes.

Lucius' eyes dart between the two before managing a small nod.

"I believe an explanation would be best for my wife and I," he admits.

Arcturus smiles a bit nervously. "If you'll follow us? Just through here..."

-SOH-

Sirius looks up from his soup to see a familiar-looking girl dressed elegantly in black.

"Hermione?" He asks disbelievingly, staring at the beautiful blonde standing before him.

She sighs in relief. "Are you alright, Sirius?"

"Where am I?" He asks. "What happened? Where's Remus? And Harry?"

"Calm down, they're all safe," she promises, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You're in Prewett Manor, my new home. Remus was safe, last I heard from him, as is Harry. I-" she bites her lip. "A lot's changed, since you went through the veil in May."

"And... What month is it now?" Sirius asks.

"Mid-July."

"Less time than I thought," he murmurs, eyes softening. "And you've changed so much?"

"I started rethinking my choice of friends," she admits quietly. "I realized that the Light isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"... I suppose you've a reason for it." Sirius pats her shoulder gently. "You're a clever enough girl to make such a decision."

Hermione chuckles. "I knew I liked you," she says. "Are you feeling well enough to get dressed? The Malfoys are downstairs, along with Orion and Arcturus."

"Orion and Arcturus? My cousin's brood, then. They know? Good. That plan wasn't fair play." Sirius smiles. "I think I can handle a bit of company, if you have something for me to wear..."

"Sparkle can handle that," she says. "They're taking tea in the garden."

"Outside sounds lovely. I'll be down in a moment."

Hermione nods and stands.

"It's good to see you didn't die, Sirius," she tells him.

He grins wolfishly.

"I'll be down in a little bit," he promises. "Go entertain your guests."

She nods and slips out of the little bedroom.

-SOH-

"So... They gave the sons of one of the Darkest families in Britain... To be raised by a bunch of blood traitors." Narcissa's fury is icy, disbelieving.

Orion nods. "We were lucky, really, that Hermione let us mess around with her Blood Reveal potion, or we would never have known."

"And we would have continued to not understand why our mother hated us," Arcturus agrees. "Now that we know we're not really hers, besides being relieved, we're a bit more understanding as to why we got beaten when the others got time out."

"Bill was alright, though. If they're to be killed, leave him and his girlfriend be," Orion adds. "He and Charlie did their best to keep us safe."

"Hello, hello, sorry to interrupt." Hermione's voice jerks Narcissa out of her revenge-filled reverie and she forces a smile.

"Not at all, my dear," she says as Hermione takes a seat. "As I understand it, I have you to thank for the return of my nephews."

Hermione flushes. "It was an accident, really."

"Nevertheless, it is because of you." Narcissa glances at her husband, who nods.

"We must first speak with... With our Master, but we believe he'll agree to allow Bellatrix and Rodolphus to come here with us if we explain the situation," she says. "When would be best for you to take visitors?"

Hermione shrugs. "I'll be around all weekend, getting everything in order in the Manor. Orion? Arcturus?"

"We have nothing pressing this week," Arcturus says firmly.

"Well then, we'll try to bring Bella and Rodolphus around sometime tomorrow or the day after," Narcissa says firmly.

"That would be good- Sirius, there you are."

Everyone turns and Sirius waves half-heartedly, an awkward smile on his lips.

"Hello, cousin. Lucius."

Narcissa's out of her seat in moments, pulling him into a crushing hug.

"Sirius, we thought you were dead!" She cries, clutching him tightly.

Uncertain, Sirius returns the hug.

"I sort of was, Cissy," he admits. "I fell through the veil when Bella hit me with some kind of curse."

"He apparently popped out of the veil I seem to have acquired in my basement while I was at the bank," Hermione explains as Narcissa releases him and leads him to a chair. "I'd just found out when you called."

"Bella will be so pleased," Narcissa tells him happily. "She's been having horrible nightmares since the incident."

"I don't hold it against her," Sirius says evenly. "She was doing what she was supposed to, just like me."

"This is going to be a very interesting family reunion," Arcturus says in a not-whisper to his twin.

"Oh, but it'll be fun," Orion whispers back, grinning.

Hermione snickers and pours Sirius a cup of tea.


	5. Ch 5: The Blacks Reunited

"So, Lucius, I've been told you went missing for several hours this afternoon," Voldemort begins once his followers have seated themselves around the long table in the main room. "Care to explain where you went?"

"To the Prewett Manor, my Lord," Lucius answers promptly. "My wife and I had something to take care of."

"And what was that?"

"Lucius got a letter, today, allegedly from a few relatives of mine," Narcissa cuts in. "I accompanied him to see if there was any truth to their claims."

Voldemort pauses, his interest piqued.

"And is there?" He inquires.

Narcissa smiles. "Yes. Orion and Arcturus are alive, and currently living with the Head of the Prewett family."

"W- what?" Bellatrix seems frozen, dark eyes wide with shock. "My- my boys are alive?" Her husband sits silently beside her, his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

"Sirius, too," Narcissa tells her quietly, and Bellatrix makes a noise, almost a whimper.

"This is indeed good news," Voldemort remarks, ignoring the way some of his circle has stiffened at the conversation. "I assume you set up a meeting with the boys for their mother and father?"

Narcissa dips her head, still smiling. "Miss Prewett expects us tomorrow, and offers to open her home to the Lestranges if they so wish."

"This Prewett..." Snape begins. "She is a sympathizer?"

"She has recently turned from the Light," Lucius replies. "She was raised believing she was a mudblood, and has recently come into her inheritance." He pauses, then adds, "She was once from Potter's inner circle."

This causes and uproar.

"How can you know she isn't trying to trick you?" Dolohov demands, his question accompanied by several nods and noises of agreement.

"Do you think we would have left her alive if we hadn't explored the possibility?" Lucius snarls. "We have the boys' blood signatures, and their promise to kill the family that had taken them sans two."

"Which family was that?" Fenrir asks, looking, for once, interested in the conversation.

The Malfoy Lord's lip curls. "The Weasleys," he tells the group. "Dumbledore had put a powerful glamour on them as children and given them to be hidden by the Weasleys. They had the glamour broken yesterday by a classmate of Miss Prewetts- Xenophilius Lovegood's daughter Luna, I believe they said."

Shocked whispers penetrate the silence following his words.

"A child managed to break the glamours?" Voldemort says, intrigued. "How curious."

"Potter and Weasley have always been the weakest out of the lot," comes Draco's voice, quiet from beside his mother. This is the first time he's ever spoken at a meeting. "It's always been Granger- Lady Prewett- that managed to keep them out of trouble."

"Miss Lovegood was at the Ministry," Lucius adds thoughtfully. "She's the one that set fire to Dolohov's trousers."

Snickers can be heard as the man turns an ugly shade of red.

"I would like to meet this Lady Prewett," Voldemort says after a moment. "Not tomorrow- but, if you could set up a meeting for me, Narcissa, Lucius?"

Lucius nods. "Of course, my lord."

"My lord." All eyes go to Rodolphus.

"Yes, Rodolphus?"

"I think- I think perhaps Bella and I shouldn't participate in this meeting," he says.

"Of course." Voldemort waves him off. "We're only reviewing a few matters, anyway. You won't be missing much."

Rodolphus bows and with strong, gentle movements, he leads his wife from the room, away from prying eyes.

"Well, now that that's over with," Voldemort starts. "Yaxley, what do you have for me about the investigation in..."

-SOH-

"Luna, I wasn't expecting you today."

The blonde smiles dreamily at Hermione and takes a seat on the couch beside her.

"I wanted to watch the show," she admits. "And maybe have a spot of tea. You make the best."

"Hello, Luna," the boys chorus as they make their way in.

"Hello, Arcturus. Hello, Orion."

"Damn, Luna-"

"How've you always been able-"

"To tell us apart like that?"

"It's the Plimpy Soup," she says serenely. "It heightens your sense of smell."

"Well, that's nice," Hermione says politely. "Have either of you seen Sirius yet?"

"Still in bed, I wouldn't wonder-"

"Lazy git-"

"Want us to go and-"

"Creatively wake him up?"

Hermione laughs. "No, no, I was just wondering if he was awake yet."

"Is this the Sirius we went with Harry to save at the end of the year?" Luna asks. "Because I was under the impression he was killed during that endeavor."

"No he's alive- oh, dear, maybe I should have told Harry-" Hermione starts off, suddenly guilty.

"Don't bother, Hermione," Orion cuts off. "Sirius can tell him himself, on his own time. He's a grown-up, after all."

A loud crack cuts off Hermione's ability to come up with a reason to write Harry anyway, and all of them look down at Sparkle.

"Master and Mistress Malfoy and the Strange parents is in the atrium, Lady," she tells them."

"Are they now? My timing is as good as ever."

"Good, Sirius, you're awake," Hermione gets up from her seat and brushes her hand absently against the sea green robe she'd put on this morning. "I'll be right back."

She sweeps out without another word.

"Think she's realized how grown up she's gotten since the Change?" Arcturus asks no one in particular.

"I honestly doubt it." Sirius pours himself a cup of tea and takes a seat, sighing heavily. "I hope this ends well."

He's not the only one.

-SOH-

"They're waiting for us in the dining room," Hermione tells the little group as they move through the house. "We were having a bit of a late breakfast."

Bellatrix doesn't answer. She seems oddly lost, pale and shaking as she's led through a stranger's house. Her husband has a hand on her elbow, but he seems uncertain as well.

"Just through here."

The dining room is large and airy, filled with sunlight and good cheer. The group sitting at the table quiets when they enter, and two young men stand, looking equally nervous as their mother and father.

"Hello, I'm Arcturus-" starts one.

"And I'm Orion," finishes the other.

For a moment there's utter silence. Bellatrix steps forward, eyes roving over the men's faces, taking in her husband's blue eyes and her own dark hair, her sharp chin and her husband's cheekbones.

Arcturus speaks first, swallowing hard.

"Mother?"

Suddenly everything shatters, and Bellatrix starts to cry with joy, reaching out to hug her sons.

"I thought you were dead," she sobs as they return the hug. "We couldn't find you, for all the spells we tried-"

"We'd have come sooner if we'd known," Orion tells her, voice muffled by the fabric of her dress. "Honest."

"They hid us, mum, we never knew," Arcturus is crying as well, his face hidden in his mother's hair.

"And they'll be punished for it, I guarantee," she promises them, fierce even through her tears. "I'll make them pay for keeping you from me."

"Just leave Bill out of it, please," Orion says. "He was good to us, and tried to keep us safe."

"And maybe Charlie, too," Arcturus adds. "He's in Romania, right now, but..."

"Whatever you ask for, you'll receive," Rodolphus says solemnly, and the twins both look up from their mother, letting go to take in their father.

They end up tackling him.

Bella looks back at the table as her sons greet their father and freezes.

Sirius gives her a half-smile.

"Hullo, Bella," he greets softly.

She starts to shake again.

"I killed Sirius Black," she whispers. "I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black-" her lower lip trembles, her eyes filled with… something, and its enough to make Sirius rise from his seat and circle the table.

She reaches out to touch his chest, fingers sliding over his heart to feel the strong pulse.

"I'm okay, Bella," he tells her quietly. "See?"

Sniffing, she presses her face into his chest and starts to cry again, hands clenched in the front of his shirt.

He shushes her quietly, pulling her into a warm hug.

"Perhaps we ought to give them some time alone," Hermione says quietly to the Malfoys and Luna, who'd gotten up to stand beside her a few minutes before.

"That would be prudent, I think," Narcissa agrees.

"Can we go into the garden?" Luna asks. "I think I might have caught sight of a weetimorousbeastie by your hydrangeas when I came in this morning."

"Certainly." And as quiet as mice, they slipped out of the dining room and into the garden.

-SOH-

"Our Lord is quite curious of you and Miss Lovegood," Lucius tells Hermione as they stroll through the garden after Luna. "He wishes to meet you in person."

Hermione is momentarily taken aback by that, then hides her shock with a mask fit for a Malfoy.

"Really? Luna I understand, but I didn't think I was so interesting."

"Well, your story would be a perfect fairytale," Narcissa points out. "And with your power and intelligence, you can understand his interest in you."

The girl hums in understanding. "Well, I'm not opposed to meeting him, and I don't think Luna would mind, either- when would be best for him?"

"... He is busy most evenings," Narcissa says slowly, shocked by the calmness evident in the half-blood girl. "Would tomorrow afternoon be a good time?"

"Tomorrow afternoon is fine. Does he have a preference in teas?"

"... He is partial to jasmine, I believe," Lucius admits, throat dry.

"He has good taste, I see. Well, lovely. Tell him anytime tomorrow afternoon is fine, though I'll be having lunch at one, if he'd like to join us- do you think Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange will be staying with us? I already have a room made up for them."

"If the twins remain here, so shall they," Narcissa tells her. "And Sirius is here as well."

"Excellent. It'll do the boys some good to have someone who can help them train their magic properly- all the Light magic they've learned has only dampened their abilities."

"They are... Dark-based, then."

"Naturally." Hermione smiles. "I am, as well, but I still need to find a tutor. Everything I know so far is out of books."

"Perhaps we could assist you," Narcissa says. "Finding tutors is always difficult, especially with things like this."

"That would be lovely, thank you." Hermione looks up to see Luna skipping towards them.

"They're done with the really emotional part," she tells them, slowing to a stop before the trio. "It's safe to go back and finish breakfast."

Hermione turns to the Malfoys. "Would you like to stay a while? We have plenty of breakfast to spare."

"I can't stay," Lucius says. "I have a few things to sort out at the Ministry, and of Draco's left home alone for too long he gets suspicious of people plotting against him..."

The women laugh at that, and Narcissa says,

"I think I might stay. Bella wouldn't mind the extra moral support."

"Well then, good bye, Mr. Malfoy. We'll see you soon, I expect."

Lucius dips his head. "Good bye, Miss Prewett. Miss Lovegood." Kissing his wife's cheek, he steps back and disapparates with a crack, leaving the women to their own devices.

"Let's head back inside, then," Hermione says. "I'm starving."

The three head back inside without another word.

-SOH-

"She has agreed, my Lord," Lucius says quietly, head bowed. "She... She invites you to lunch, tomorrow afternoon, at one. The Lestranges will be there, along with Sirius Black and perhaps Miss Lovegood, as well."

"And how is dear Bellatrix?" Voldemort inquires.

"I believe she is well," the blonde says. "We thought it prudent to give her a moment alone with her family, and then I had several matters of my own to attend to. Narcissa stayed until noon, I believe."

"Excellent. Tell me, what do you think of this Miss Prewett?"

Lucius pauses.

"She's young," he says slowly. "And only recently coming into her magical maturity. She is... Charming, I suppose, and polite- a bit blunt as well, but Narcissa didn't seem bothered by it. She is considerate, calm, and sensible."

"Not very Dark," Voldemort. "Not like any of mine."

"Forgive me, my Lord, but to those who don't know them, most of your followers come off as quite cultured," the blonde points out. "Perhaps there is more to her than it seems."

Voldemort smiles darkly. "Perhaps. You may go, Lucius."

"My Lord." Lucius bows and strides out of the library, heart slowing considerably now that he's out of his master's presence.

He needs a drink. Maybe two.

-SOH-

The evening is quiet. The twins are huddled around their mother on the largest couch, and the Rodolphus and Sirius are playing wizard's chess by the fire, watched by a sleepy-eyed Luna.

Hermione can't help but smile from her place by the fire. It's a family, a whole one. Not even when she spent her summer days with the Weasleys did she ever see such... Wholeness.

"The Dark Lord will be coming for lunch tomorrow," she says, making everyone look up.

"The Dark- here?" Sirius squeaks, making Hermione chuckle.

"Don't worry, Sirius. He's just curious about me- and Luna, too." She glances at Bellatrix and the boys, who haven't yet stirred. "He's probably curious about the twins, as well."

"Our Lord has been quite worried about Bella," Rodolphus admits, shifting slightly in his seat. "He probably wants to make sure she isn't overwhelmed."

"I thought it was something like that," Hermione admits with a nod. "He'll be here around one. No causing trouble, Sirius, or I'll send you to your room."

Bellatrix laughs at that, and it rings free of madness.

"That won't work, my dear. Sirius is a master of sneaking out- he taught me everything I know."

"And still not everything." Sirius smiles weakly. "I won't cause trouble, Hermione, but... You understand my trepidation."

"Of course. But you have to understand, Sirius, in wartime, his killing of the Potters was perfectly justified- they were the strongest Light family in the Order, after all."

Sirius nods. "I suppose." He turns back to his chess game, glancing down to see he's been completely decimated. "Another game then, Rodolphus?"

"You can stand another defeat?" Rodolphus counters, smiling slightly.

As they settle back into their game, Hermione looks back at her book, thinking hard.

Sirius seems awfully... Passive, about the whole thing. A bit worried, perhaps, but he's not nearly so volatile as she thought he'd be.

Perhaps death had changed him.

Nodding to herself, she takes a deep, centering breath and goes back to her book.

She can worry tomorrow.

-SOH-

At the last minute, Tom decides to forego his glamours. It would do no good if his snakey persona is seen walking around in the light of day, especially since he's visiting a currently undetermined family head.

He's met in the atrium by a beautiful, young blonde dressed in a black hobble dress and soft red slippers. Her lips are painted to look like blood.

"You look quite different from the last time we met," she says, extending her hand out for him to take.

He does so, kissing it lightly.

"I appreciate the ability to come and go as I please," he tells her with a charming smile. "And, with all the propaganda nowadays form the Light side, I may as well give them something to be scared of."

Hermione laughs, and it's like silver bells.

"I must admit, I prefer this face to the other," she says, giving him a once-over. "It matches what I know of you much better than your glamours."

It's true, too. The windswept black hair and the dark eyes of his proper form are striking, his features perfect and strong in ways she can't even begin to describe.

He smirks, but says nothing as she leads him into the dining room.

"Everyone, our guest is here."

As expected, Voldemort is tackled by an ecstatic Bellatrix, who hugs him tightly around the middle.

"My lord!" She cries. "It's true, it's true!"

Strangely, the Dark Lord laughs.

"I can see that, Bella," he tells her, trying to disentangle himself carefully from her iron grip. "May I meet them all, or do you plan to just squeeze me to death?"

She lets go, and he turns to the twins.

They bow simultaneously.

"I'm Orion-"

"-And I'm Arcturus."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, My Lord," they finish together, and Hermione's eyes sparkle.

So they've already decided, she thinks with satisfaction. Good. It'll make it easier.

Obviously, Voldemort thinks something similar, if the look in his eyes is anything to go by.

"I remember you when you were only newborns," he remarks, looking them over. "I said you'd grow up to be handsome men. It's good to be proven correct."

"Orion, I'm blushing-"

"- So am I, Arcturus-"

"Really, it's thanks to our parents-"

"- That we didn't end up toads."

Voldemort chuckles. "It's nice to see you inherited your mother's humor," he tells them. "I imagine you're quite the pranksters."

Arcturus smirks, and Orion gives him a wolfish smile.

"The best since the Marauders," Orion promises.

"Better than," Arcturus disagrees. "We turned it into a living."

"Doesn't mean you're better than us," Sirius interrupts from his place at the table, making his nephews turn and drawing the Dark Lord's attention. He leans forward slightly, grinning.

"But if you think you've got something that a Marauder can't beat, I suppose we could alway have a competition..."

"That must be your cousin, then, Bella?" Voldemort asks, and Bellatrix smiles.

"Yes. My Lord, that's Sirius Black, my least favorite cousin."

Sirius pouts. "Now, that's mean, Bella. All those summers spent dying Regulus's hair pink are for naught?"

"Definitely her cousin," Rodolphus mumbles, and everyone turns to look at him.

Rodolphus jerks his thumb at his wife.

"In fifth year, to get my attention, she put a charm on me that turned everything I touched bright yellow," he explains. "Because I said I'd never date a girl who played Quidditch."

"I believe the phrase you used was 'better than me at Quidditch'," Bella corrects. "And then, when I beat you like a drum at tryouts, in a fit of pique, you stopped talking to me. So I took action."

Luna and Hermione share an attempt at a blank look before exploding into peals of laughter.

"I think I remember hearing about that, actually," Sirius says thoughtfully. "I spent months trying to replicate it- I figured it was some Ravenclaw who came up with it."

"No, that was her." Rodolphus seems completely unembarrassed as the girls continue to laugh, and Orion and Arcturus are staring at their mother with starry eyes.

"You've got to teach us, mother," Orion says.

"Please?" Arcturus begs, and Hermione decides to step in.

"She can teach you boys after lunch," she says. "But I for one, am hungry, and I'm certain-" Hermione pauses, turning to look at Voldemort. "What shall I call you? I assume 'Voldemort' isn't the name you use without your glamours, and 'my lord' is a bit of a awkward in casual conversation."

"I go by the name 'Marcius Gunn' when I'm in Diagon," he tells her. "You may use that."

"Marcius," she repeats, smiling. "I like it." She turns back to the Lestranges. "I'm certain Marcius is hungry as well. Sparkle!"

The house elf pops into existence before her mistress.

"Yes, Lady?"

"You can start serving, now."

"Yes, lady!" Sparkle curtsies deeply and disappears, and everyone sits down.

"Miss Lovegood, I assume," Marcius finally greets the other blonde as they settle into their meals. "How is your father? I've not seen him in a long while."

"Very good, thank you." She smiles dreamily at him. "He thinks he's nearly perfected our plimpy soup recipe."

"Does he, now?" Marcius says politely, but Hermione sees the slightest tinge of green at the mention of the soup. "Well, that's certainly a lovely piece of news."

Orion and Arcturus are chattering away with their mother, who's smiling in a way Hermione imagines she hasn't done for a very long time. Rodolphus is watching them all with a sort of childish interest, chewing his food slowly and swallowing as though it were a task set by the gods. Sirius is sitting quietly beside him, intent on his cousin as well, and Hermione...

Well, Hermione's watching.

Marcius finds it amusing. She sits like a queen, chin up, eyes sharp and manners impeccable as she watches the interactions of the family, and also, when she thinks he isn't looking, his interactions with Luna.

Who seems to be quite oblivious to it all.

Lunch passes with meaningless chatter. Hermione proves to be a very good conversationalist, and Marcius spends the majority of the meal talking with her once Luna gains Rodolphus' interest with talk of Nargles.

She's quite aware, he notes. No matter what topic they touch upon- art (Muggle and Magical), politics, the newest book on transfiguration- she knows and talks of it all easily and intelligently. She's charming, and clever, and just the sort of person he could use.

She seems to agree, if her offer for a more private setting to talk is anything to go by.

He agrees, and she leads him into the garden.

"I assume you wish to know the positions of the boys and myself politically."

Right to the point. How refreshing.

"It would be a good thing to learn," he replies, absently straightening his collar.

Hermione smiles.

"The twins have already decided," she says. "The deception of the Weasleys and Dumbledore and the reuniting of their true family has only solidified their distaste for the Light. Their eldest... The eldest Weasley brother may even be able to be swayed, if anything the boys have said is true. The second oldest, I'm unsure of, but he is currently working on a dragon reserve in Romania, so I doubt he'll be a problem."

"And yourself?"

"Naturally I've chosen the Dark," she says with a nod. "I've spent too many years and much energy trying to keep Harry from killing himself. I'm done with it all- besides, the things I've learned this summer... They make it an easier decision." She pauses. "I think... There's a good chance Sirius might join you as well. He's missed his family, and now that Harry has truly proven himself unable to be saved, he might actually follow his true feelings."

"Family's important to him, just as it is for any Black," Marcius says. "I remember how Regulus spoke of him... But that was before, of course."

"I read he was dead," Hermione remarks. "When I was researching."

The dark lord shakes his head. "No. He went into shock when he heard his brother was arrested and taken to Azkaban without trial. With the symptoms of a Dark user, coupled with the fact that he already had a few problems of the mind..." He sighs. "He's been diagnosed with catatonic schizophrenia. He doesn't move, or speak. He's been living in the Moody Home in London."

Hermione looks up. "Moody?" She inquires.

"With the exception of dear Alastor, the entire family is considered a Dark family," Marcius informs her mildly. "Most of the Order is made up of rebellious Dark children. It's only a matter of time before they crack and return. Or die."

Hermione nods, business-like. "Of course. Do you plan on infiltrating the Hogwarts staff once more, now that you've been exposed?"

"We have succeeded." He tilts his head to one side. "However, if you'd like any details, it would probably be best if you were to have officially joined us, first. For security reasons, you know."

Hermione smiles. "Of course. When's the next meeting? The sooner the twins and I are initiated, the better."

"You're quite eager," Marcius observes. "I haven't seen that in years."

"That's because people believe what the news and their parents tell them," she replies easily. "Nobody takes the time to actually research anymore."

"Exactly." The dark lord takes a seat on the nearest bench in the garden. "Did you know Hogwarts school is considered the worst Magical school in the world?"

Hermione grimaces, taking a seat beside him.

"Not until I started going through the Change," she admits, wrinkling her delicate nose. "It's false advertising, the shit they tell Muggle parents hoping to send their children to good schools."

Marcius stares for a moment, taken aback by the dirty word coming from such a delicate mouth, then begins to laugh.

She arches a single, perfect eyebrow.

"What? I wasn't raised under a rock."

"Under a bridge, then, perhaps?" He inquires, still laughing.

She frowns in mock hurt. "And I take it the Dark Lord never swears, then?"

"Only on Sundays."

That does it. She begins to laugh as well, and their conversation turns to lighter, less political topics.

-SOH-

"They're so cute," Bellatrix says with a smile from her place by the window.

"A nice match," her husband agrees.

Sirius looks over his cousin-in-law's shoulder carefully.

"You think so?" He inquires. "Isn't he a bit too old for her?"

"Her intelligence is worth something to him," Luna chimes in, looking up from her chess game with Arcturus. "She won't let him walk all over her, and that interests him. She's not like the other single women who've joined the ranks of the Death Eaters."

"And, you've got to admit, for a man in his eighties, he looks pretty good," Orion adds, pausing when everyone turns to look at him.

"We've been reading through Hermione's research into the founding of the Death Eaters and its alleged members," Arcturus explains, capturing Luna's bishop. "Interesting stuff, all around. I think she should publish some of the more important stuff after we win."

"'We win'?" Sirius repeats disbelievingly. "So you will be joining up?"

"Course," Orion says. "We've been wavering since fifth year, you know-"

"And now that we've got our mum and dad back-"

"We may as well go all the way-"

"Because, after all, family's important-"

"Especially if they're long-lost-"

"Though not so lost anymore," Arcturus finishes just as Luna takes his queen. "Damn, lost again."

"You shouldn't look so surprised, Sirius," Luna says as she resets the board with a flick of her wand. "Hermione's going to join up, too, and with her on the team-"

"Victory's only a matter of time," Sirius finishes, eyes troubled.

Bellatrix catches his elbow with a long-fingered hand.

"Sirius, there's more to it all then that," she says. "If you join us, the the whole family will be back together again. You, and me, and Cissy, and Reg-"

Sirius stiffens.

"Regulus died years ago," he says sharply. "Didn't he?"

"He may as well have," Bellatrix says sadly. "He's very sick, a secret our organization has been keeping for years. My lord's been looking for a cure, but... It seems rather hopeless."

Sirius bites his lip, a habit she remembers from before she was even a first year.

"I... I think I've been given a lot to think about," he admits after a moment. "I think I'll need some time to myself." He presses an absent kiss to his cousin's cheek, then slips out of her grasp, heading for the stairs and probably his room.

"He'll be alright," Luna promises. "It's a lot all at once, but he'll get over it. He's very good with coping."

Bellatrix looks after her cousin, concern shining in her green-gray eyes.

"I hope so."

"They're coming back," Rodolphus reports from the window.

"Act natural, everyone!" Bellatrix orders, hurrying to take a seat beside Orion. Rodolphus wanders towards the bookshelf, suddenly interested in a volume on magical gemstones.

Arcturus chuckles.

"It's like a Jane Austen novel," he murmurs as Luna captures her third pawn. "Mother's Mrs. Bennett."

Luna giggles as her queen drags the smashed pawn to the side of the board.

"We're back." Hermione's voice is a trill when she pushes open the french door and steps inside. "Have you all been gossiping about me?"

"Naturally," Arcturus says with a grin. "You're the most interesting person in the Pureblood world, you know. We should have an introduction party."

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Bellatrix says excitedly, but Hermione grimaces.

"Oh... Parties are a bit much," she says."I don't really like them."

"It's not really a party," Marcius tells her. "More of an official introduction into Pureblood society. Parents usually do it when their children reach marrying age."

"I don't want to get married!"

"You don't have too, dear," Bellatrix says soothingly. "It's just a tradition. Mostly it's just a reason to have a good time and meet new contacts- it is, after all, all about who who you know."

Hermione groans, rolling her head back against the back of the couch.

Orion makes a noise of confusion. "How would Hermione do it, anyway? Since she's the only one-"

"It can't be proper for her to throw her own ball," Arcturus finishes. "Right?"

"..." Bellatrix brightens.

"Maybe we can have Narcissa introduce her," she says brightly. "During the Halloween gala- She'll be sixteen by then, won't you?"

"September nineteenth, yes." Hermione seems bewildered. "A Halloween gala?"

"It's a Malfoy family tradition," Rodolphus explains. "And having an introduction ball in conjunction with it is a legitimate excuse to get you and Draco out of the castle for the holiday."

"Narcissa will definitely agree," Luna says from her place absently. "At the very least, it will be a reason for Draco to be at home for the holiday. And she likes Hermione. She definitely won't mind." She pauses thoughtfully. "It'll also be a reason for the other students in sixth and seventh year to leave, as well. An introduction is pretty important, socially."

"Lucky the Weasleys stopped going to those sorts of things years ago," Arcturus remarks. "Nobody's been introduced since Charlie."

"They'll be dead by then, dearie," Bellatrix says dismissively. "They're not going to be a problem, regardless."

"It's settled, then," Marcius says, clapping his hands together. "I'll ask Narcissa for you, Hermione, when she returns home from Paris tonight- Bellatrix, Rodolphus- the next meeting is next Saturday evening. Bring whoever you like." He offers Hermione a short nod, and, the moment she lifts the Apparition charms, disappears with a crack.

"Well, isn't he charming?" Orion says mildly. "Nothing like I expected."

"Naturally," Hermione says loftily, pulling herself to her feet. "Has Sirius hidden himself upstairs?"

"He's a bit overwhelmed," Luna tells her with a small smile. "It's a lot at once, you know."

Hermione sighs.

"It's probably best if I leave him to his thoughts, then," she says, making her way towards the bookshelf.

Rodolphus looks up from the book on gemstones.

"Probably," he agrees lightly, glancing up at her before settling his eyes back on the book. "He seems the type to rebel against even the slightest hint of anyone else's trying to meddle- better to let him come up with the idea to join us on his own."

Hermione hums in agreement, her eyes still on Rodolphus' face.

"You know, from what I've been researching, everyone in the Inner Circle specializes in something," she says, leaning against the bookshelf. "I know Snape's the Potions Master, obviously, and that Bellatrix is in charge of Interrogation, but-" she tilts her head to one side. "What's your specialty, Rodolphus?"

"Runes and Old Magic," he replies, licking his fingers to turn the page. "I dedicated fifteen years of my life during and after Hogwarts to learning the ways of the Magical World before the separation of emotion and will. It has made me quite adept in many seemingly obsolete professions, such as sword smithing and alchemy."

Hermione's eyes widen with academic lust.

"Could you teach me?"

Rodolphus shrugs. "If you have the will for it, I don't see why not. Most of my work is quite pain-staking."

"It sounds fascinating," she says earnestly. "In fact- Bella, would you mind teaching me a few things as well?"

Bellatrix seems a bit surprised.

"I- are you certain, dear?" She asks. "My work is a bit... Hands on."

"I want to learn, anyway. I think it would be good for me." She smiles brightly before adding,

"If there's anyone who's willing to teach me anything new, I wouldn't mind meeting them, either."

"Rabastan is a specialist on most forms of hand-to-hand combat," Rodolphus offers. "Macnair specializes in Muggle Weaponry, and in conjunction with Rookwood, they're been working on magically improving... Rifles, I think they're called?"

"Oh, I know about them," Orion pipes up. "We stole a couple from the Weasley garage before we moved. Mr. Weasley couldn't figure out what made them work."

"My Uncle Danny took me to a shooting range a few times before Mum stopped our summers in America," Hermione adds thoughtfully. "I can shoot almost any legal military-grade semi-automatic."

"Geez, Hermione, and just when we thought we had you all figured out," Arcturus teases. "Have you always been so violent?"

She puts her nose on the air.

"I have self-restraint," she says airily. "It's easier to underestimate someone who seems naive and bookish."

Luna smiles to herself and begins to hum something sinister as she checks Arcturus' king.

It's only just begun.


	6. Ch 6: The Inner Circle

A/N: I woke up to a lovely group of chapter-by-chapter reviews from a guest by the name of tryph! I thought I'd update early, because she/he put me in such a nice mood!

* * *

"Come on, boys- we'll be late if you don't hurry."

"Sorry, mum!" The twins chorus, Orion running a brush through his tangled black hair and Arcturus trying to tie his shoe and walk at the same time. They're dressed as sharply as always, Orion in an orange suit and Arcturus in cerulean.

They both pause when they see Hermione.

She's dressed in silver dressrobe that moves like water, with wide sleeves and emerald green embroideries of thorns coming from her left sleeve and ending on her right breast. Her lips are painted green, and her eyes are accented with streaks of black and emerald.

"Geez, Hermione, where do you keep finding this stuff?" Orion asks.

"You look beautiful," Arcturus adds.

She smiles.

"It's not too much?" She asks Bellatrix, twirling once to reveal a slight train to her robe, also patterned in thorns.

"Of course not," the older woman says briskly. "Though this isn't an introduction, this will be the first time you meet most of the Inner Circle. You ought to look your best."

"Besides, our Lord will probably want to move quickly if you and the boys are to join us," Rodolphus adds, tugging at the sleeves at his own black robe. "The summer is nearly ended, and the chance to plant another spy in Hogwarts is not something he'll pass up."

"Do you think he'd mind taking me?"

The group goes quiet at the soft question, and they look up to see Sirius in his favorite pinstripe suit and wingtips.

He looks oddly... Timid.

Bellatrix's smile is blinding as she moves forward to take her cousin's hand.

"I think he wouldn't mind a bit more Black in his organization," she tells him brightly. "Who would, after all?"

"Mum, we're going to be late!"

Hermione takes Sirius' other hand, reassuring and calm.

"Everything will work out," she promises. "It always does."

"That sounds like something Luna'd say," Sirius says softly. "Did she know I'd choose you?" His eyes find Bellatrix, who smiles.

"We knew without her ever telling us," she tells him. "You're a Black. Family always comes first."

Sirius lets out a long breath.

"I... I think you're right," he agrees. "Though... I think you're lucky Harry turned out to be more of a prat than his father."

"I think you're right," Bellatrix agrees. "Now, come. We'll be late."

And with a crack, they're off.

-SOH-

The meeting is made up mostly of people in the Inner Circle and their children. The Malfoys are seated with Snape, who looks crossed between annoyed and surprised at their presence. Then there's Luna, Greyback, Macnair, Rabastan, Rookwood... And two women Hermione doesn't know. They're both beautiful, like china dolls where they sit on either side of Luna. The younger one is about Hermione's age, with long red hair that spirals past her shoulders and electric blue eyes that seem to know a bit too much. The older one has the same pale blonde as a Malfoy, with the almond eyes of an Oriental. As Hermione watches, she lights a cigarette with the tip of her wand and takes a long drag, eyes on the book in her hand rather than the newcomers.

"My, my, Hermione, you look simply beautiful."

Marcius enters from a door just behind the throne-like chair at the end of the table, a smile on his glamourless face.

She smiles and curtsies.

"Thank you... Marcius?"

"You may call me what you like in such a setting, my dear. It is only my most trusted followers that you see before you." He gestures at the empty seats at the table. "All of you, please, have a seat. We have many matters to discuss."

The group obeys, and Hermione finds herself between Snape and Orion.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Snape's lips barely move.

She smiles sweetly.

"It's Prewett, now, Professor," she tells him. "And I'm here for the meeting."

"And, I'm assuming, initiation." The voice belongs to Rookwood, who seems to be sizing her up like meat on a hook.

"Naturally." She gestures at the twins and Sirius. "And them too, of course."

"Nothing says family bonding like an initiation into a secret society of troublemakers," Rabastan says cheerfully, reaching over the table to shake Hermione's hand. "Rabastan Lestrange, at your service."

"It's good to meet you," she replies. "I've heard a lot about you from Bella and Rodolphus."

"Only the good parts, I hope."

"That depends on your point of view."

"Oh, dear, that sounds ominous."

"Rabastan, stop flirting," Bellatrix admonishes, but she's grinning at her brother-in-law's antics. "She's not even legal."

Macnair snorts.

"Since when is anything we do legal?" He inquires, and Hermione's quite surprised to find his voice quite pleasant to hear.

Marcius clears his throat pointedly and they all quiet.

"As you've all noticed, we have a few new faces with us tonight," he says softly, his voice like honey. "They will be, in a few moments, one of you."

"Put your left hands on the table," Bellatrix instructs quietly, sounding a bit surprised. She wasn't expecting an immediate initiation, after all.

Her sons, cousin, and Hermione obey.

"I wish for nothing more than to serve the Dark Lord," Hermione says clearly, reciting the words Luna had given her and the twins to memorize days before, 'just in case'. "I will follow him to the ends of earth and sky, and give him all my strength for his cause." She repeats herself, over and over, feeling magic slide under her skin to settle in the flesh of her forearm.

Down the row, the twins, Luna, and Sirius are reciting the words in unison, and the unknown redhead seated across from her adds her voice to the chant. It sounds almost like a song, magic pulsing along with the words as it marks her as one of them, as one belonging to the Dark Lord, to Voldemort.

It makes her shiver with excitement.

Too soon it's over, and Snape is pushing her back into a seat she wasn't aware she vacated, panting with exertion and adrenaline. The girl across from her looks no better, and the twins might have actually collapsed back into their seats.

"Wow," Hermione whispers. "Can I do that again?"

Marcius chuckles, and she turns he arm to look over her new mark.

"The rush is something you will grow used to as you use your power more and more," he tells her. "But, I often forget the effect such workings have on young people. Cecilia, Orion, Arcturus, Sirius, how are you?"

"Haven't felt something like that for a few years," Sirius admits, smiling weakly as he settles himself more comfortably in his chair. "It's..."

"Refreshing," Orion says.

"Rejuvenating," Arcturus agrees.

"Awesome." Cecilia smiles brightly at Marcius. "I want to do more like that."

"All in good time, my dear. First, however, we must talk of yours and Hermione's first mission."

Hermione straightens. "Yes?"

Marcius' lips quirk at her attentiveness, and Draco holds back a snort at the pose he'd dubbed 'the teacher's pet' in first year.

"You, Miss Lovegood, and Cecilia will be helping dear Draco with the murder of Albus Dumbledore."

There's a sharp intake of breath from Bellatrix and a small noise of shock from Sirius.

"You... You really think we can do this, my Lord?" Cecilia asks, eyes wide with surprise. "We're ready?"

"Of course you are. Albus has a way of... Underestimating those under his watch."

Hermione hides a smile. She knows Marcius is talking about himself.

"Will my request to be Re-Sorted have to be postponed?" She inquires instead. "I fear I've already sent the letter."

"With a mind like yours, I'm certain you will find a way around it." Marcius nods to Cecilia.

"Cecilia will be transferring into Hogwarts for her sixth year, having been homeschooled most of her life. She will also be tutoring you and Draco in advanced Dark Arts during the year." He glances at Hermione. "Narcissa mentioned you were looking for a tutor. Cecilia is more than adept enough to help you with the basics."

"It'll be a pleasure to work with you," the girl says to Hermione. "Draco's told me you're quite the clever clogs. I like people like that."

"Hopefully I'll grasp the Dark Arts as easily as everything else," Hermione replies with a sheepish smile. "I fear I'm severely lacking in that department."

"No worries, child," says the asian woman on Luna's other side, speaking with a purposeful, hissing drawl. "I can taste your magic from here; I haven't been in contact with such a Dark core since my lord, here."

"Leonora, my dear, get your feet off the table," Marcius admonishes lightly. "It's unladylike, and your brother's getting that look again."

"Is it of resignation?" Lucius inquires dryly. "Because believe me when I say, I've had years to get used to her."

Leonora lets out a bark of laughter and reaches out to ruffle Lucius' hair.

"Big brother, you spoil me," she tells him, taking down her feet. "I knew there was a reason I still talked to you."

Lucius sighs and Hermione hides a smile. From what she can tell, this woman is the rebellious Miss Malfoy that was the fruit of Abraxas' second marriage. From what Hermione managed to dig up on her, this is the woman who ran off to learn the art of Muggle explosives- a big name in the Muggle military for her innovative and 'green' warfare.

"Draco, why don't you take the girls to the library and begin working on tactics?" Voldemort says. "We have no need for you for now."

Draco stands, bowing slightly.

"My Lord."

The girls follow suit, curtsying and bidding everyone else goodbye.

The door barely closes behind them before Cecilia starts talking.

"So, did anyone else see the way Fenrir was staring at Orion?" She asks excitedly. "By Merlin, I think he's found a mate!"

Hermione blinks. "What?"

"Pay her no attention," Draco advises, leading them down a long hall toward large red doors. "The Moody family and the Greybacks are linked, and Celia's been trying to get her Uncle Fenrir a mate since we were six."

"So, you two have always known each other, then?" Hermione asks, and Cecilia nods.

"We used to have playdates together," she says brightly, eyes bright with mischief. "I was his first kiss."

"Worst decision I ever made," Draco says blandly, pushing open the door and waving in the three girls. "You weren't even any good."

"And you tasted of your mum's lipstick," she retorts. "Shut it, Mama's Boy."

Draco doesn't even get angry. He just sighs, much like his father at Leonora's antics, and shuts the door behind them.

"You know, you're much more civil now that I've joined the Dark," Hermione remarks to Draco as she settles into an armchair beside Luna.

"Now you're not backing a prat," Draco shoots back, taking a seat across from her. "Nothing I ever said was personal, mind. I've really got no issues with mudbloods- not like my father, at least- and most of what I said was only ever meant to rile up Potter."

"I did notice you only ever bothered me when I was with my friends," she admits. "So, it was an act?"

Draco nods. "We've been working on this for years- though we were expecting not to put the plan into action for another year, at least," he tells her. "It was all so that I'm underestimated when the time comes to put my position as a student into play. The teachers think me a spoiled pureblood boy with average intelligence and a cowardly disposition. They won't suspect me when I start putting my plans into action."

"Except for Harry," Hermione informs him. "He's very paranoid about you."

"Another piece of the plan," the blond boy says with a smirk. "What is his mental health going to be like when everyone brushes off his suspicions, when he realizes he's utterly alone in his belief and completely correct?"

Hermione's impressed.

"You have thought this through," she says.

"Not me. Mother and Renata- Celia's mother," Draco tells her. "As I said before- this has all been planned for years."

"I was homeschooled for this purpose," Cecilia adds, reaching forward to pour everyone tea from a tea set that wasn't by her elbow moments before. "My first five years of schooling were spent learning heavy duty Dark Arts, just so I could give Draco a crash course when I transferred into Hogwarts, when people would stop monitoring his power so much-"

"Then, after I've been deemed ready, I would put myself in a position where I could kill," he continues. "If I thought I could manage it, I'd fulfill my task. If not, I'd beg to be saved and have some sort of sob story. They'd accept me as a defector, and I'd find an opportune moment from that point."

"But with Hermione it's different," Luna pipes up. "Because if Draco has to go with Plan B, he has someone besides Professor Snape to watch his back in the Order."

Draco smiles. "The risk will be minimal."

"So... I suppose it would be best if I tried to maintain some sort of relationship with Harry and- no, Ron will be dead by then," Hermione says thoughtfully. "But still. I need to play nice."

"Complain about the Slytherins a lot," Cecilia advises. "But mention that Draco's taken a liking to you, now that you're the Lady of a House, and is being good to you. Tell him everything's politics. Show sympathy to Draco's 'situation', but not his beliefs."

"What about you, Celia?" The green-eyed girl asks. "What house will you be in?"

"I'm trying for Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw," she admits. "I'm clever enough for Ravenclaw, and no one suspects a Hufflepuff, either- everyone is too fixed on Gryffindor and Slytherin. Besides, as part of the potential 'save me' plea, Draco should make it seem like he's not so bad- he'll have to start branching out into other houses."

"You can use me for that, as well," Luna offers. "Since Hermione will be in Slytherin."

"Of course I will," Hermione says with a sigh. "Thank God Ron won't be there. He'd pitch a fit."

"Tell me, are his tantrums real?" Draco asks. "Because he's always struck me as a whiny prat."

Hermione darkens.

"They're real, all right," she says. "And I probably would have hexed him for most of them for how pointless they all were. You know he got angry and stopped talking to Harry until after the first task during the Triwizard Tournament, just because he was jealous? And in third year he wouldn't talk to me just because Crookshanks kept trying to kill that damn rat-" she pauses. "Well, shit."

"What?"

"I haven't seen my parents in a week and a half," Hermione says. "I'd almost forgotten, I've been so busy with everything in the Magical World. I have to pick up Crookshanks, and explain a few things so they don't try contacting anyone troublesome before I'm ready. I'll have to visit tomorrow, I suppose."

"I've been planning to go into Muggle London with Leonora to pick up a few things, anyway," Cecilia tells her. "We can drop you off, if you like."

"That would be lovely." Hermione smiles.

"This is probably going to end very well," Luna says absently, reaching forward to take a teacup.

Draco snorts.

"We've just gotten the smartest girl of our year to help us with the murder of Albus Dumbledore," he says. "Damn right it's going to end well."

Hermione just blushes delicately at the compliment and adds some sugar to her tea.

-SOH-

"The time to make our first move has come," Voldemort tells those remaining in the meeting room. "I believe we should hit somewhere close to home."

"What do you mean by that, My Lord?" Severus asks, and the handsome man smiles.

"Well, Dumbledore has doled out a grievous punishment to our dear Bella," he says, eyes on the twins. "Taking her children and leaving them with a family of blood traitors? Framing her for the torture of the Longbottoms? That simply isn't... Light."

The twins wince at the reminder- their mother had explained about the Longbottoms and their places as double agents for the Dark. They cringe to think that their mother was put in Azkaban on false charges, magically compelled to confess to a crime she hadn't committed.

"Now, I understand that the boys would like certain family members to be spared," Voldemort continues. "It will be your jobs to make sure your brother and his wife are clear of the house when we get there."

Orion nods.

"We'll handle it," he promises.

"But what next?" Arcturus asks.

"Next, Bella will pay Molly and Arthur Weasley a visit," Voldemort says. "And they will have a friendly, motherly chat while Rodolphus and Fenrir handle the rest."

"With pleasure, my lord," Fenrir says with a feral grin, eyes never leaving the twin across from him's face.

Orion shivers when he meets the wolf's eyes and is certain not meet them again.

This doesn't escape their Lord's notice, though he does hide his glee at the look in Fenrir's eyes.

"Marcius," Arcturus starts slowly. "Can we get in on it? The killing and the maiming and the making them pay?"

"Just so they know exactly why," Orion adds.

"Oh, I'm certain your mother will make certain of that," Rodolphus tells them. "She'll carve it into their skin."

"And as for the killing and maiming," Voldemort adds. "You haven't been trained yet, to handle that sort of Darkness."

Orion blinks.

"Didn't you just assign a couple of fifteen and sixteen year olds-"

"To the task of killing Dumbledore?" Finishes Arcturus.

"Draco and Celia have been training for years in the Dark Arts," Narcissa explains, leaning forward slightly. "Their hearts have been conditioned for it- besides, you were raised alongside these people as family. While I'm certain you won't feel bad for them, a moral argument might not be the best thing for a raid."

"What about Luna and Hermione?"

"Luna is of a Dark family," Bella says gently. "And as for Hermione- can't you feel it, when you're near her?"

"Her core is very mature for a girl who're spent her like without proper training," Leonora agrees. "A few weeks of training with Celia and she'll be on par with the rest of the children her age."

"She's always been restrained," Sirius says thoughtfully. "Could it have perhaps been that her magic was trying to make itself known for years, and she was subconsciously teaching herself to balance it out through the use of mental exercises, such as studying or logic puzzles?"

"Most children in situations like hers develop criminal records," Leonora points out. "They're arsonists, or thieves-"

"Troublemakers, bullies," Sirius adds, nodding. "But she's none of those things."

"You might be onto something, Sirius," Rodolphus says after a moment. "She spends an enormous amount of time reading- I've even seen her translating texts from Ancient Greek and Latin into English, on occasion."

"We'll have to look into this," Voldemort says thoughtfully. "It could be of use to us in the future. But for now..." He looks back at the twins. "Are you clear on your duties?"

They nod in unison.

"I'm certain Fleur's parents have been dying for a visit from their daughter and future son-in-law," Orion says thoughtfully.

"We should surprise them," Arcturus agrees.

Voldemort smiles slightly.

Everything seems to be falling into place even earlier than he imagined.

-SOH-

As it turns out, Hermione's mother is quite understanding, and, with the promise to write, the Lady of the Prewett family gets into Leonora's battered pick-up truck and leaves her house for the last time, Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

Her heart is so light she wonders if she has one at all.


	7. Ch 7: Bill and the Rookwoods

Bill steps out of Gringotts just in time to watch two strangers dressed in bright yellow and bright purple, respectively, approach him.

"Hullo, Bill," the one on in purple greets cheerfully.

"Fancy seeing you here," the one in yellow adds.

His eyes widen.

"Fred? George?" They don't look anything like the twins, all dark hair and pale skin, but their smiles...

"Actually, it's Orion-"

"And Arcturus Lestrange." Arcturus leans forward, smirking. "But you already knew that."

Bill swallows. "I knew- I knew you two weren't Weasleys," he says after a moment. "But I didn't... Mum never said where she got you." He cautiously steps closer. "You- you're Lestranges?"

"Yup," Orion says easily. "Boy, was our Mum glad to see us-"

"Drove her mad, the fact that we were kidnapped. And what with her and Dad getting framed and compulsed to admit to the torture of her best friend-"

"Well, she just couldn't cope."

Bill's eyes are the size of saucers, his gaze darting between the two.

"Framed?" He whispers. "Kidnapped? What- what do you mean?"

"We'll explain later," Arcturus promises. "Today, though, we're here to warn you. Mother's planning something pretty big for dear Molly and her darling husband-"

"Not to mention our other siblings remaining in the Burrow-"

"So we suggest that you and Fleur decide that visiting her parents is just the sort of thing that needs to happen."

Bill stiffens, eyes narrowing.

"Bellatrix Lestrange is going to kill our- my family," he says, and the twins nod.

"Probably," Orion admits.

"She'll probably torture them first-"

"For all the stuff they've done to ruin hers and our lives-"

"But yeah, she's going to kill them."

Bill takes a deep, calming breath.

"I can't- I won't stop you," he says after a moments. "Mum and Dad... Are horrible. If they're Light, I don't want to be."

Arcturus pauses.

"Can't you feel it?" He asks carefully.

"Feel what?"

"You aren't Light, Bill," Orion says. "I don't know if it's goblin influence-"

"Or maybe just you-"

"But you reek of Dark Magic."

"We didn't notice before-"

"But now that we know about ourselves-"

"It's too easy to spot you." Arcturus frowns, leaning forward slightly.

"It feels a bit like Sirius', actually," he mutters, straightening. "Restrained with Light Magic."

"What-"

"Change of plans," Orion says suddenly, catching his brother by the arm. "You are coming with us."

Bill's eyes widen. "What- where?"

"To Hermione's," Arcturus says. "Luna's probably already there, and I'm pretty sure she still has a jar or two of that Blood Potion."

"Don't worry, Bill, nothing'll happen to you-"

"As long as you behave."

-SOH-

"When Dumbledore cast the glamours on the twins, he also placed a restraint on their magic that deemed it nearly impossible for them to reach their true potential as Dark Wizards." Hermione looks grim as she explains this all to Bill. "We thought they might not be the only case of this, but we never would have imagined..." She trails off, looking at Luna.

"I won't break the glamours unless you want me to," the blonde tells him. "But I think it would be in your best interest to try the Blood Potion, just in case."

Bill swallows, eyes on the twins, caught between fear and something else.

"You're... You're saying I might not be a Weasley," he says after a moment. "Alright, fine. But what if I am? What if the Dark is just from being around the goblins?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Your magic is almost in identical shape to Sirius' before Luna removed the restraints," she tells him gently. "The only difference is, Sirius asked for them to be put there. That's how we're certain it's Dumbledore's work."

Bill bites his lip.

"So then, why?" He asks. "Why am I being raised by the Weasleys? If I'm adopted, then why wasn't I treated like the twins?"

"Think about it, Bill," Orion says, face tight. "Me and Arcturus were awful as kids. Molly probably thought it was our Darkness leaking through, or something."

"You were so well-behaved, compared to us," Arcturus adds. "Always playing quietly with Charlie while we were putting jelly in Percy's hair or spiders in Ron's bed."

Bill looks between them, eyes wide, then sighs, shoulders slumping.

"Fine," he says simply, holding out a hand. "Let's check."

Hermione takes his hand, a needle appearing and pricking his finger.

"A drop's all we need," she tells him kindly as he sucks on the bleeding finger. "Boys?"

"A spoonful of the potion, ready."

"Parchment, ready."

Hermione smiles reassuringly at Bill, dripping his blood into the potion.

"Now we wait," she says simply.

Bill nods nervously.

"We wait," he agrees.

-SOH-

"Bella, do you know Augustus Rookwood very well?"

Bellatrix looks up from her reading to see Hermione standing in the library door.

"He's a few years older than me, and quite gifted in mixing magical and muggle," she says. "Why?"

"Because his son is sitting in my parlor."

The older woman is on her feet in a moment.

"His son?" She demands. "Bastian?"

"Orion and Arcturus went to go warn their brother Bill of the attack on the Burrow," Hermione explains. "And they sensed something unusual about his magic."

"Restrained?" Bellatrix guesses, fury rising. "Like Sirius', and the boys?"

"Exactly. Luna's already removed the glamour, but we don't know how to contact Rookwood to tell him-"

"There's no need," the Lestrange woman says, striding out of the library and down the stairs. "Florence Rookwood was never arrested for Dark activities, we can just send her an owl. She is no doubt in constant contact with her husband."

"oh, excellent, shall I send one, then?"

"As soon as possible, as well as one to the Dark Lord that another child has been found- oh, he looks just like his father!"

Bill- no, Bastian- looks up from where he's still staring, dumbstruck, at his results, but he doesn't look like a Weasley, anymore. His eyes have gone gray, his hair now a golden blonde and curling pleasantly. He looks like an angel, with chiseled cheekbones and a soft mouth, and- Hermione's lips quirk- his earring's still in its place. Gods almighty does he look confused.

"Mrs. Lestrange?" He sounds distant, shell-shocked, but he still manages to be polite to his adoptive brothers' mother, Hermione notes with amusement. "Hello, I-" he sways, and his brothers catch him by the elbows and push him into a chair.

Bellatrix immediately goes into mother-mode.

"Don't worry about formalities with me, dear," she tells him, taking a seat to his left. "You've just had yourself quite a shock. Luna, dear, some tea, please?"

Luna nods serenely and pours a cup, handing it over to the former Weasley.

"What about Fleur?" He mumbles. "I'm not who I said I was. I don't even look like I did."

"Don't worry about that," Hermione says dismissively. "She's part-veela, a Dark creature, so she won't care about affinities or anything. Not to mention she probably has been able to see through those glamours from the moment she met you. An evolutionary thing, you know, to make sure their prey isn't below their standards."

"She could see?" He asks weakly. "Then why didn't she say anything?"

"No doubt she assumed you knew and didn't want to talk about it," Bellatrix says. "Drink your tea, dear- Hermione, perhaps you should send Florence that owl? And maybe something to this Fleur, as well. A girlfriend?" She asks Bastian, and he shakes his head.

"My fiancé," he tells her, not looking up. He huffs a humorless laugh.

"I feel like I should be freaking out," he admits, glancing at Bellatrix. "Death Eater and all."

"You've just had a shock," she tells him simply. "Not to mention it's probably registered that your parents are Death Eaters, which means it's unlikely I'll hurt you."

"Letters sent," Hermione announces. "Your parents and Fleur will be here soon, Bi- Bastian." She smiles soothingly at him. "Don't worry. We'll get you sorted."

That doesn't seem to comfort Bastian much. Hermione doesn't really mind.

-SOH-

Florence Rookwood opens the window for the frantic owl tapping at the glass. The owl- a great-horned owl with a missing eye belonging to Bellatrix- offers his leg, revealing a small parchment wrapped around his leg.

"Thanks, Mortimer," she says absently, patting the owl's head as she unrolls the letter.

_- Florence Rookwood,_

_Your son Bastian Augustus Rookwood has been discovered. He is currently at Prewett Manor. Please inform your husband and come as soon as possible._

_- Hermione Prewett_

Florence's eyes widen, and she rises to her feet, the beads of her skirt hissing against the leather chair with the movement.

"Auggie!" She shouts, magically making her voice travel throughout the entire house, including its hidden rooms. "We need to go, now!"

-SOH-

Fleur's letter finds her in her favorite cafe. The owl- a sweet little elf owl she doesn't know- holds out its leg.

The letter is short, to the point, and makes her go cold inside.

_-Fleur,_

_Bill is at Prewett Manor. The glamours have been taken off, and, much to his own surprise, he is not a Weasley. Please come as soon as possible._

_-Hermione Prewett_

Of course, Fleur knows about the glamours. She could see through them from the very beginning. But she'd always assumed he'd been aware of the differences between the Weasleys and himself- he'd stood out against the orange of most of the Weasleys. But if he didn't know, than did that mean the glamours weren't... His?

Fumbling for her purse, she sets three galleons down on the table and rises elegantly to her feet, ignoring the subtle gasps of her admirers.

Striding out of the cafe, she apparates to 'Prewett Manor' with a loud crack.

-SOH-

"Bill!"

The veela woman rushes into her fiancée's arms, clutching him tight.

"I am so sorry, eef I had known you weren't aware of ze glamour I would have said somezing-" she pauses, a thought occurring to her. She pulls back.

"Your name eez not Bill, eez eet?"

The glamourless angel shakes his head slightly.

"Bastian Rookwood," he murmurs, trying for a smile. He's nervous, she can feel his heartbeat thrumming under his skin as he anticipates her reaction.

She bites her lip.

"Eet suits you," she decides after a moment. "'Bastian' eez a regal name, and you are a regal man."

Bill- Bastian- smiles faintly, hugging her close.

Someone loudly clears his throat behind them, and they turn to see Sirius standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear.

Fleur's eyes widen.

"Sirius Black-"

Bastian put a hand on her shoulder.

"Apparently he didn't die," he says gently. "I'm certain Hermione will explain later."

"She'll be explaining a lot of things after dinner," Sirius assures them. "But right now, your parents are here, and would like to meet you- and your fiancée, as well."

Fleur gives him a careful look.

"Ze Rookwoods are a Dark family weez a Death Eater as ze Head..." She says slowly.

Bastian nods. "And the twins parents are the Lestranges," he adds. "... Are you okay with that?"

Fleur looks between him and the door, before shaking her head.

"Wherever you go, I follow," she says decisively. "Lead on, mon cher."

"There's a good girl," Sirius says cheerily. "Loves you to bits. Now, lets go downstairs, shall we? Florence and Augustus are waiting for us."

Bastian nods and Fleur takes his hand.

Time to meet the family.

-SOH-

Florence is... Excitable.

The moment he sees her, with rainbow bangles and a flapper dress and curly black hair that's absolutely everywhere, there's a wrench in his chest and he has the vaguest memory of rose perfume.

"Bastian!"

He's encircled in thin, pale arms and then the smell is all over.

His arms come up slowly and clutch her tight.

"Mum."

The woman in his arms makes an odd noise in the back of her throat and pulls back.

"Twenty-one years I haven't heard that word directed at me," she tells him softly. "Come on, let me have a look at you- oh, just as handsome as your father. Auggie, come here and introduce yourself!"

Augustus steps forward cautiously, blue eyes on his son's face like he can't believe it.

"Where were you?" He asks harshly after a moment. "We searched for years, every nook and cranny in the British Isles, but there was no trace, nothing-"

"I was at the Weasleys," Bastian says quietly. "Apparently, Dumbledore has a penchant for leaving Dark children in the custody of his staunchest followers."

"We'll be testing the rest of the children at the next possible opportunity," Bellatrix adds from where she's studiously not paying attention to the whole exchange. "And perhaps the children of other Light families."

Augustus shifts.

"We knew all the kidnappings were being done by Light supporters," he admits after a moment. "But, the idea of Dumbledore himself being involved..."

"Sickening, isn't it?" Hermione asks from the stairs. "We're working on it, I promise. Stay for dinner? Bellatrix and Rodolphus have to be somewhere this evening, but I'm certain you'd like to catch up with your son."

Florence practically glows.

"That sounds lovely, Miss Prewett," she says happily, looking back to her son and the woman beside him.

She blinks at Fleur as though this is the first time she's noticed her.

"And who's this beauty?" She asks, looking at Bastian.

"Ah, this is Fleur Delacour, my fiancée," he introduces, and Fleur curtsies.

"Eet eez nice to meet my future 'usband's real parentz before our wedding," she says. "Eet eez set for late July."

"A lovely month for a wedding!" Florence says brightly. "Call me Flo, darling, and this is Augustus."

Augustus nods awkwardly. "Nice to meet you, Miss Delacour."

Fleur flaps a hand. "Meez Delacour eez my littel seester. Please, call me Fleur."

As they continue to talk, Bellatrix turns to Sirius.

"Miss Moody will be coming around eight to collect you," she tells him. "She's going to be taking you to Moody Manor."

Sirius stiffens.

"Regulus?" He asks softly, and Bellatrix nods.

"I don't know if he'll wake," she admits. "But maybe... Maybe your being there will help."

The clock chimes five, and Hermione looks up from where she's standing on the marble staircase, looking striking in copper and black robes.

"Bellatrix, Rodolphus, that's your cue," she says. "Lord and Lady Rookwood, Fleur, Bastian, we'll be having dinner now. Come with me, and perhaps- oh, where's Luna gone?"

As she and Sirius herd the family to the dining room, Rodolphus look up to the second floor balcony where the twins stand, unusually cold. Their gazes are cool and knowing, their regal features highlighted by the half-light as they watch their parents.

"Good luck," says one, gray eyes flashing in the shadows.

"Happy hunting," says the other, a razor smile ghosting across his lips.

Bellatrix smiles as well, malicious intent creeping into her gaze.

"Of course, dears. Have fun without us."

"Yes, mum," they chorus, and with a nod, Bellatrix catches her husband by the elbow.

They Apparate away with a loud crack.

-SOH-

Dinner is lively with Florence at the table, always ready with a good story or a dirty joke. Bastian takes to her and her quiet husband quite happily, and by the time dessert comes out, they may as well have always known each other.

"Rookwoods are known for being rather rebellious," Luna informs Hermione quietly as they watch. "They tend to be inventors, or scientists. Augustus Rookwood is no different, save for his interest in putting Muggle artifacts to use in the Magical world."

"I read something along those lines," Hermione admits, delicately cutting into her chicken. "Think Bastian will go the same way?"

"Almost definitely." Luna smiles softly at the rest of the table- Fleur, who's talking animatedly with her new father-in-law in French, Sirius, who's smiling despite his pending visit to his brother, the twins, who are showing off a few products to their adoptive brother's mother, her praise bringing their chins high as they explain the inner workings of their trick wands to their captivated audience.

"You know... I've always been told purebloods are cold," Hermione remarks. "But it certainly doesn't seem that way."

"The face shown to family is quite different from the face shown to the public," Luna replies. "It's a drastic difference, and understandably disbelieved."

Hermione nods to herself and reaches for a glass of red wine- a new love which came with her Ladyship.

Five years, she's spent in the Magical world, and yet she's never felt more at home until now.


	8. Ch: 8: A Wrap Up of Summer Vacation

Cecilia appears at eight o'clock sharp, dressed in a pair of Muggle jeans and a bright pink shirt with wide, billowing sleeves.

Sirius is waiting for her in the atrium, looking pale and nervous where he stands by the main staircase.

"Have the Rookwoods left, then?" Cecilia inquires, smiling kindly at him. "Bellatrix told me when she stopped by Malfoy Manor."

Sirius forces a smile.

"Twenty minutes ago. Flo is... Just like I remember."

Cecilia chuckles.

"Auntie Flo's my godmother," she tells him. "So I know how it goes." She sobers, tilting her head to one side.

"Are you ready to go?"

"I... Yes. I think so."

Cecilia reaches out to take his elbow.

"Don't worry, Sirius," she says confidently. "You'll be good for him. From what we can tell, he can wake at any moment. He just needs a little push, is all."

She waits until he gives a nod of acknowledgement, then Apparates them away to Moody Manor.

He has a brother to visit, after all.

-SOH-

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

Hermione looks up from her letters to see Arcturus leaning against the doorframe of her study.

"Ah, I've been going through my mail. Ron's invited me to the Burrow."

Arcturus snorts. "You'll be declining, then?"

"As if I'll be able to sleep in a bloody rat's nest," Hermione says primly, startling a laugh out of the older boy. "So, where's Orion?"

Arcturus' smirk turns evil.

"Luna's kicking his ass in chess," he admits. "It's ten to one, so far."

Hermione snorts and sets down her letters.

"So, Cecilia thinks her uncle fancies Orion," she says conversationally. "What do you think?"

Arcturus blinks. "Uncle?"

"Greyback."

"Ah." He shrugs. "Maybe. He certainly did his best to stare holes into Orion's shirt, so... Maybe."

"Werewolves are very possessive, from what I understand."

"I know. Might be good for Orion, though. He usually does the chasing, in situations like this."

"Does he?"

Arcturus shrugs.

"He's a bit more... Forward, than I am. And he likes the chase." He smiles sheepishly. "I'm more of a hopeless romantic, really."

"You look for meaning in your relationships. That's not a bad thing, Arcturus." Hermione smiles kindly at him. "It's very sweet, actually."

Arcuturus flushes and looks away. Hermione lets it drop.

A few minutes of silence go by.

"Do you think any of the other Weasleys will prove to be Dark children?" He asks, making Hermione look up again. "Or are we it?"

"I have no idea," she says honestly. "Some of them are bound to be Molly and Arthur's."

"I'm betting it'll be Ron and Ginny, if that's the case. They were spoiled the most, out of all of us."

"Perhaps," Hermione agrees. "We'll know by the morning, regardless. I'm certain Bellatrix won't get carried away too soon."

"I doubt it. She won't want to rob her friends of their children, after all." She looks back at her letters.

"Go to bed, Arcturus. There's no use worrying, tonight."

Arcturus nods jerkily, pushing himself to his feet.

"Yeah, you're right. G'night, Hermione."

"Good night, Arcturus."

-SOH-

Bellatrix is a woman of grace and composure, when she wants to be, which is why, rather than burning the Weasley house to the ground, she strolls up the garden path and knocks politely on the door.

Then, she blasts it open.

"Good evening," she greets politely as the family dinner turns to chaos and wands are drawn. "I'm here to talk about my sons."

Her lips curl into a smile as Rodolphus' anti-magic wards kick in. It's an odd feeling, her core becoming muffled and untouchable, but it's worth the looks of disconcerted fear on the victims.

Her eyes roam over the family, shrunken in size already, eyes lingering on the frightened children, then their supposed mother.

"Molly Weasley," she drawls, her voice like tempered steel. "You have a lot to answer for." Her favorite blade slides from its hiding place, cool against the inside of her wrist.

"Have a seat."

-SOH-

"So, where's your mother again?"

"Mother's gone school shopping for of us. She thought it would be in your best interests if you stayed out of sight until your Re-Sorting."

Hermione gives the blond beside her a rueful smile.

"Especially since I'm supposed to be mourning my 'boyfriend'."

Draco snickers.

"Who was that article by, anyway?" He inquires.

"Rita Skeeter." Hermione wrinkles her nose in distaste. "She swears it was a direct quote. Ron's been claiming to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas that we've been an item since last year, apparently."

"Weasley always did like to boast. Do you think he gave details?"

"Almost certainly."

"Pig." Draco idly turns a page in his copy of Witch Weekly. "So, how's your Re-Sorting to be handled?"

"Professor McGonagall said that I'd be taken directly from the carriages into a private room. No flourish, no fuss."

"No mention?"

"Likely only in my house. The rest of the school will know soon enough, regardless."

"Of course. Brown and Patil will be on you like flies on filth."

"That's what I'm hoping for, actually. It makes my job easier." Hermione tilts her face up to the sun. "It means I only have to explain once."

"I think you and Pansy are going to get along famously," Draco drawls. "She loves these sorts of games."

"It's only a game if you don't mind losing," she says, getting to her feet. "Is it alright if I swim?"

"I don't mind. But- find Luna, will you? She's been at the bottom for at least half an hour, and has no doubt started to go pruney."

"Has she?" Cecilia peers over the edge of the pool curiously. "She said she'd only be down for a minute."

"Celia, your sense of time, as always, is horribly skewed," Draco drawls. "Hermione, if you will?"

Hermione nods and shrugs off her robe, revealing a simple blue swimsuit. With a graceful movement, she dives, appearing minutes later with a confused, Bubble-head charmed Luna.

Draco settles back into his seat, sliding his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose.

The summer passes by without further interest.


End file.
